


Take a bite

by MindscapeWish, satchihatchi



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Adult Dipper Pines, Alternate Universe - Vampire, BillDip, Blood Drinking, Bottom Dipper Pines, Fluff and Smut, Horror, Human/Vampire Relationship, Illustrations, Inspired by Dracula, M/M, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Top Bill Cipher, Vampire Bill Cipher, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Warnings May Change, horror romance, vampire bride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29181615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindscapeWish/pseuds/MindscapeWish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/satchihatchi/pseuds/satchihatchi
Summary: As a journalist, Dipper is sent to a Romanian village called "Midnight Hollow" to research the mysterious disappearances that are happening there. Excited, he takes the first plane to Romania and agrees to live in the local castle as a guest of Count Cipher. People in the village warn and beg him to stay away from that castle, but he ignores them and goes there anyway. However, he soon regrets his decisions. Because when things take a sudden turn, Dipper finds out that the shadows here are more dangerous than they seem and that it is better to watch your neck...
Relationships: Bill Cipher & Dipper Pines, Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines
Comments: 43
Kudos: 197





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my co-creator MindscapeWish for being such a big help. You are the best! <3 (check out their work)

_When the night falls, in the sky a full moon_

_Deep within his castle stands a groom._

_He stands there, heart dead inside_

_Waiting for someone to take as his bride._

_He watches the others run and pray_

_Watches them beg wanderers just to stay_

_"Keep away from the shadows and the dark that yearns,_

_For not once from his cold castle have we seen one return"_

_The moon is his sun_

_And the night is his day_

_They say that if you don't run_

_You will surely end up his prey._

_But contrary to the villager's thoughts,_

_Despite how much they cried and fought,_

_This groom isn't as heartless as he seems--_

_For finding his someone to love fills his dreams._

_His heart does not beat, but it is not dead inside._

_It throbs and feels even though he'd already died._

_"I want someone to warm it, and I think you're the one"_

_Within this star-filled moment, our deed has been done._

_Deep within his castle of olde,_

_dances the groom and his bride follows_

_Living out history as it unfolds_

_And an empty carriage leaves Midnight Hollows._

\---------------------------------------------------

“Midnight Hollow! The final station - Midnight Hollow!” With a loud shriek of the steam whistle, a conductor entered Dipper's compartment. 

"Finally!" Dipper rose happily from his seat. It had been a long ride-- just the journey by train here from Budapest took over six hours, but that wasn’t counting the plane ride either. 

The young man turned and took his suitcase from the overhead trunk. It was heavy, so he was glad the conductor helped him get it off the train. As soon as he got out of the train, he felt a cold Transylvanian wind on his skin.

It was early summer and young journalist Mason “Dipper” Pines was standing at Midnight Hollow Station. He could already feel the potential of this place humming over his skin. Dipper couldn’t quite place why, but he knew that Midnight Hollow promised the adventure he’d been yearning for ages.

At least, that’s what he hoped.

Dipper worked as a journalist for a small publishing house in his homeland, Oregon. He adored his work, but at times he was bored with it. He had to work most of the time on articles such as: _"Firefighters saved another cat of Lazy Suzan," "50 years since the founding of the city library,"_ and so on. There was no true action in Gravity Falls. Once his boss took him to his office and offered to write a report on the "mysterious disappearance of people in a village in Transylvania," Dipper did not hesitate and accepted the offer. He had waited his whole life for such a chance! If he found something big there, he could get a promotion, maybe even a job at a much famous publishing house!

However, his sister was not so excited about Dipper's journey. It was as if something was telling her Dipper should not go there. But the twin tried to ignore her. This was his great chance at a better life and he didn't let anyone or anything to ruin it.

Before the trip there, however, he received an address from his boss to a "Count Cipher" who lived in a castle near this village. Dipper wrote him several letters and surprisingly, according to his letters, the count was a very nice and kind man. He offered to provide Dipper with accommodation in his castle and begged him to come as soon as possible. He promised when Dipper arrives in the village, he will send him a carriage so that he does not have to walk so long there. How thoughtful of him! Dipper still remembered the last letter the Count had sent him before he left for Romania.

_June 6th, 2021_

_Dear Mr. Pines,_

_I am more than delighted to welcome you into my residence! I cannot wait for you to come to my beloved country and explore what has been so dear to me._

_It will certainly be a long journey for you. I will see to it that a carriage awaits you at approximately 10 PM. I do not enjoy leaving you waiting for so long, but unfortunately, I am out of town until the evening and would much prefer to welcome you in person. I look forward to your acquaintance!_

_May your journey keep you in full health with little difficulty and that you enjoy your stay in Midnight Hollow._

_Your friend,_

_Count Cipher_

\---------------------------------------------------

The village of Midnight Hollow, known in Romanian as "Miezul Nopții Gol,” was located in a small valley, surrounded by the Carpathian Mountains. As soon as the sun came here, it was shadowed out and took on a very dark and cold impression. It was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, but Dipper felt like it was slowly getting ready for dusk. 

The more Dipper observed, the more he concluded that this place was downright _creepy_ . Fitting, considering the mysterious disappearances. The sheer _lack_ of people spooked him even though he understood the village was very small. The little who looked his way stared and whispered to each other, paranoid and crossing to the other side of the walkway in their flowy, patterned dresses and garbs. Dipper felt like he was intruding by simply walking along the train stop.

He took his suitcase in one hand and the paper with the address of the inn where he was to wait for the carriage. He looked at the buildings on the way there.

Dipper truly didn’t understand why people kept staring at him. He knew he was a foreigner, but these gazes gave him the sense that he killed their dog or something. Nevermind them.

Tall, dark trees loomed over the mini crowds, housing flocks of crows that sat along their branches, various roofs, and hopped along the cobblestone streets. The buildings and old wooden houses he passed by were worn out and tired, almost like they’d be one last creak in the breeze away from collapsing. He furrowed his brows in confusion when he observed that every house had at least one cross above their doors and _a lot_ of garlic.

It was when Dipper passed by a dim, medieval tavern-styled pub that he realized how hungry he was. Unlike the other buildings made of wood, this was of stone, dirtied by daily life but still holding up fairly well. Above the door on a nailed-in slab of wood was the name: Golden Chicken.

Welp, hopefully this would go well.

Dipper pulled open the door and stepped inside. The second the door closed behind him, a burst of warmth hit his body. His muscles instantly relaxed from the tension the cold outside had set into them and he sighed in relief.

Wooden tables and chairs gathered a respectable distance away from a roaring fireplace. Decorated around the room, old lanterns hung up on the walls and on the small window sills. Shadows danced across nearly every surface in the pub. Barrels of ale were scattered around the place too. The ambiance was nothing short of cozy. It was even better that he was the only customer at the moment. 

Dipper sat down at a table in the corner of the pub and took off his coat. The chair creaked beneath his weight, but he wasn’t concerned. In fact, he would stay here forever if he could. The sense of safety and comfort enveloped this pub.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a small, plump, and older woman in a dark blue skirt coming his way. He looked up.

"What will you have, stranger?" she asked. The fullness of her cheeks complimented her smile lines and wrinkles but contrasted with her broad shoulders. Greying blonde hair laid down her shoulders in two, white-ribboned braids. Dipper instantly felt like he could trust her even though he had only seen her for maybe thirty seconds. 

"Oh, I'd like a goulash and a cup of black tea, please." Dipper smiled up at her. The woman turned to the bar, where a large balding man with a curling mustache and goatee stood. Dipper offhandedly remarked in the back of his mind how he appeared similar to Santa Claus with his beer belly, big, dirty boots, and kind wrinkles.

"Hey, Hans! Make goulash and tea for this boy!” the woman shouted. Hans looked up from wiping the bar down, nodded, and disappeared into the kitchen to the side of the bar. The woman sat down next to Dipper.

"So, what are you looking for here, young boy? Rarely does a new face appear in this village." Her S’s lisped against the gap of a missing front tooth. Strangely, it made her all the more warm and lively.

"Oh, I came here for research. I'm a journalist," Dipper explained, “and I’ve noticed some interesting happenings going on that would make for a good news piece.”

The woman laughed. "Yeah? That's amazing! My daughter is now studying literature in Budapest!” She leaned forward on the table, forearm anchored to the wood. “I'm Helga, by the way, the owner of this inn. And that polar bear that went to the kitchen is my husband Hans. What is your name?"

"My name is Dipper. Dipper Pines.” the brunette replied. Helga extended a hand and Dipper took it in a handshake. This "Helga" seemed like a very sociable and nice older lady. Maybe Dipper could learn more from her what was going on in this village. Their conversation continued into the night that closed in on them, even when more and more people filtered into the pub. Helga stayed at Dipper’s table and kept him company.

As lovely as making mindless conversation to fill the time was, Dipper wasn’t in Midnight Hollow for leisure, unfortunately. He had as much time as he wanted for this news story, but the more time he spent dinking around, the more wasted time and money it’d be.

“Can I pick your brain about the village?” he asked her, setting down his teacup.

“There’s no better person to ask! Yes, of course.” Helga gestured with a hand towards Dipper for him to continue the line of thought.

“I’ve noticed that _all_ of the houses I’ve passed by have crosses and garlic all over the entrances.” Dipper hoped that what he was asking, or rather _how_ he was asking it, wasn’t offensive. “How come? Is it a tradition?”

A glimpse of a less than jovial expression flashed across Helga’s face, but as quick as it came, it left. Helga laughed once more and waved her hand dismissively, almost like her explanation would be silly.

“Ah, yes, I suppose it would be considered a tradition,” she answered. “We have crosses on our doors because we are very religious. The garlic is because in the past, a sickness brought from bats inside the house swept through the village, so putting it up is for protection.” She shrugged.

Dipper frowned in concern. Oh, geez. He didn’t remember reading about that when he researched Midnight Hollow-- but then again, it _was_ a very small village. Not much was known outside of its parameters.

Wait. Did garlic even ward off bats?

“That sounds awful,” he sympathized. He wrapped his hands around the warm teacup and brought it up to his lips once more.

“Don’t fret, don’t fret,” Helga reassured. “It was in the past. Now it stands as just a mindless tradition, nothing to worry about.”

The way she dismissed it made something in Dipper’s stomach flip, as if she had been lying. Dipper would get to the bottom of it if it proved to be an issue, he promised himself.

Wordlessly, he nodded. The conversation continued on from there, cautiously steered away from any more grave topics. Soon it became 10 PM and Dipper’s eyes were beginning to droop.

"So, it's getting late. Do you already know where you will spend the night?” Helga glanced towards the fire that left the pub colder in its ebbing death. The logs glowed but flames no longer roared. “I could find you a room up there if you want, on the house for our new visitor.” Dipper shook his head. 

"Ah, that's not necessary. In about half an hour, Count Cipher's carriage will arrive for me.”

Helga blinked. “Excuse me?”

Dipper’s brows pinched together. “Count Cipher is allowing me to live with him until I have my story. Did I mention that?”

As soon as he said that, Helga’s face turned to horror. She shot up from her seat and gestured frantically, screaming in hysterics. Dipper’s blood ran cold.

"Oh, God, no! No, don't go to that hell home! Please don't go there! That place is cursed! No one from the village _dares_ to approach the castle. Once you get in there, you won't come back-- no one ever does.” She fell to her knees and grabbed his hands into her own, clutching them tight and pleading. “You're so young, stay here! Please!”

Dipper thought it was quite ridiculous, but it was also unpleasant in the sense that he doesn’t know something he should. There was utter horror and panic in the old woman's eyes. He did not understand why living with the Count would be so terrible. After all, Dipper concluded from the letters that he was an honest and kind person.

He stiffened, trying to take his hands back without upsetting her further. “U-Um… Helga, what are you--? It’s okay, I promise.”

She didn’t listen to him. Instead, she shoved her hand in her pocket and brought out an old, dark red rosary with a silver cross. She clutched it in her and Dipper’s hands, praying over it in hurried breaths.

He had never been more uncomfortable in his life. Dipper could hear bits of the Lord’s prayer and “please, spare this young boy’s life,” but otherwise, he couldn’t hear anything specific through the blood rushing in his ears.

“Hel--Helga, please,” he weakly said, “get off of me.” Dipper pulled his hands away, and only with a yank was he able to break free. He wiped away Helga’s tears that had fallen onto his wrists.

“You’re going, aren’t you?” Helga looked up at him, terror still clear as day on his face. “Promise me, _promise me_ you’ll flee the instant you feel uneasy. _Please_ , I cannot let you go, I cannot let another die because I--” She abruptly quieted. She hadn’t meant to say that last part.

A lump filled Dipper’s throat. He was afraid because of Helga’s tears, but… he couldn’t lose this. He couldn’t lose this place of unique lodging that gave him opportunities.

“I promise I will be careful,” he murmured to her and collected his things. Without another word, he swiftly left the pub while he still could.

A carriage was already standing in front of the pub, pulled by a pair of black horses. Before he opened the carriage door, Helga ran out of the inn/pub and grabbed his coat. "Please don't go. If you value your life, if you value your family, don't go to the castle. _Please_.”

Dipper shrugged off her hands, a deep, sad frown on his face. “I’m sorry, Helga, but I can’t do that. I have to go.” He placed a hand over his heart. “Take care of yourself, Helga. I will be careful.” 

All Helga could do was cross herself and watch Dipper climb in. The carriage doors closed and the horses trotted down the cobblestone street. 

All she could say while she watched it leave was, "Please, God, protect this boy..."


	2. Chapter 2

The moment Dipper sat himself down in Count Cipher’s dark, plush seated carriage, he prepared himself for the long ride ahead of him. Granted, 45 minutes was nothing compared to the several hours he’d spent on the plane and train, but it was still a lengthy journey.

It was the scariest ride Dipper had ever endured.

The farther away from the village the carriage drove, the more the landscape depleted, along with a growing storm. Thick, grey clouds nearly blocked out the entire full moon. Trees thinned and disappeared the farther they traveled until they reached a point where it was a complete wasteland. Neither flower nor shrub grew there. The lack of flora to gauge how strong the wind was forced Dipper to rely on the rocking of the carriage and growing whistling.

Dipper peered closer out the window in hopes of finding any sign of life, but found nothing. Only the looming Carpathians and _tombstones_ on the side of the road. A lightning bolt struck off in the distance with a deep roll of thunder that rumbled deep in his chest. Dipper jolted and buried himself back against the cushioned seat.

God, what a fucking horror movie.

The carriage steadily inclined up a steep, narrow path that lay atop a rocky hill. On either side of it was a deep, positively lethal chasm full of rocks that stretched for miles. Every stone beneath the carriage’s wheels kicked up and jolted it, proving as a threat.

Dipper’s stomach rolled in time with those stones. The thought of falling terrified him and the storm did nothing to help it.

Dipper was terrified of falling, but he was also terrified of what came _after_ the fall. There was more probability that he snapped his neck and instantly died, but there was still probability that he would lay there, in excruciating pain with no help. There was still probability that the wolves, currently howling at the full moon, would come and eat his flesh straight off his bones. The bloodthirsty beats were waiting there for their victim and Dipper could only be glad that they hadn’t tried to attack the carriage yet.

Dipper lifted his head for one more brave peek. There he saw it-- with a flash of lightning striking the ground, the castle of Count Cipher rising against a backdrop of whipping trees. The clouds and rain turned what used to be green into an ugly, sleep grey.

It was… _Astounding._ Dipper’s fear melted away into awe.

Fog blurred and concealed its features, but it still rose above the trees in several subsections and needle-like peaks. The stone was old and worn, but regal in its ancient form, with many windows. The clearest thing was the stone bridge preceding the castle itself with large barriers on either side that prevented the carriage from tipping off the side into a similar chasm.

Dipper’s eyes grew to the size of saucers as they grew closer to the castle. The sound of horse hooves clopping against rain filled his ringing ears.

The horses pulled to a shuttery stop and the coachman, all dressed in black, opened the carriage door for Dipper.

“We’ve arrived,” he simply stated, gesturing with a hand to the giant wooden door in front of them. Dipper swallowed and nodded, bending to the side to grab his suitcase.

“I will take care of your belongings,” the coachman interrupted. “Hurry inside before the rain comes down harder.”

“Oh, um…” Dipper snapped his hands back to his lap. “Okay. Thank you, kind sir.” As he was instructed, he walked up the stone steps to the main door of the castle and stepped inside.

If Dipper thought the outside of the castle was magnificent, then the hallway was _exquisite._ He passed beneath a dark archway at the entrance that opened up into a much larger room. Dark blood red carpet started at the edge of the entrance, following up a grand, spiraling staircase leading to the balcony of the second floor. Torches and lanterns sent dancing shadows across empty corners and lit up the rest of the room. Dipper felt surrounded by solid bronze and gold.

The hallway was nothing short of _gorgeous._ Every feature felt old and loved, having seen everything across the world yet nothing at the same time. Dipper was both in awe and unnerved. Bat-like gargoyles reached threatening arched claws out of the stone castle walls like they were escaping.

The gargoyles weren’t the details that set Dipper a little on edge though. It was the portraits. 

They were relatively new, painted at least in the last decade, and depicted the same four individuals, whether together or separated. They were all dressed in well-fitted, dark regal attire with high collars, flowy cape-like coats and boots. The family had one thing in common-- at least one triangle symbol on their person. A woman wore gold triangle earrings with her red veiled dress, two dark haired and stoic men had a triangle sewn into their collars, and a blond gentleman had a triangle brooch on his breast. Overall, these portraits were entirely normal, but the eyes-- _the eyes_ followed Dipper wherever he went.

One particular portrait of the blond gentleman was stunning. The blond color of his hair was so vibrant that it was nearly yellow, wavy and cascading down his shoulders on either side. His golden eyes somehow sparkled in the paint, lips drawn in a near permanent smirk that changed his appearance from handsome to purposefully seductive. Dipper certainly didn’t mind looking at this painting, at least.

Footsteps descending the stairs echoed in soft, well-placed clicks. It brought Dipper out of his thoughts.

"Welcome, my dear friend!” a pleasant male voice accompanied the steps. “I see you have finally arrived! How was your journey?” His English was perfect and accompanied by a slight accent. Dipper found it charming.

"It was great. Thank you for being so kind as to send me a carriage. I don't know how I would get here on foot in that terrible weather,” Dipper replied, looking for the first time at the man standing in front of him.

The young journalist was surprised to not see an old gray-haired Romanian grandpa in front of him, but a young, rather handsome man. He was tall, slender, and muscular, as Dipper stared at his wide shoulders. His hair reached to his shoulders and was carefully combed and tied into a ponytail with a black ribbon. He was wearing a gold vest, a white regency cravat, black skinny pants, and a dark long coat-- typical clothes for men of his standing. Finally, there was a triangle brooch on his breast.

But there was something strange about him. It was his skin. Dipper had never seen such pale skin in his entire life. It was as if he had never been in the sun. Maybe it was because of how little the sun shone here in the Carpathians? Yeah, that seemed like a realistic reason to Dipper. However, he could not explain why the Count's eyes were so strange in color. They were golden-brown, but at one point Dipper could have sworn they had turned blood red. Was the Count wearing contact lenses? Or was Dipper just imagining things?

His image was exactly mirrored in the portrait of the mischievous blonde, too.

"Are you Count Cipher?" Dipper asked, confused. He didn't want to believe that someone so young had been the earl he'd been writing letters for the past few months. Maybe it was his son or something. However, the blond man nodded and smirked. 

“Yes, the one and only.” 

Count Cipher walked towards Dipper with more confidence than the brunette had ever seen in his life and gently took his hand. He kissed it, saying, “I bid you welcome, Mr. Pines, to my home. I hope you'll have a wonderful time here.” 

Dipper found his heart racing much too fast for comfort. Count Cipher’s lips were so soft and it sent butterflies through his stomach. He blushed, counting on the shadows near him to cover it. “ _Calm down, Dipper! This is just a habit with which he welcomes his guests. Nothing else!”_ he said to himself. 

Count Cipher chuckled at Dipper's reaction and stepped away from him with a smile on his face. "Please, come in. You must be tired. I'll show you your room.” His eyes were warm, never leaving Dipper’s form crossing the archway.

The Count smirked. Now there was no going back...

\---------------------------------------------------

As Dipper walked with Count Cipher through the dark corridors of the castle, he felt as if someone was _watching_ them. He couldn’t explain it, but his neck and shoulders tingled, as if the excessive portraits lining the walls were alive and staring.

_“You’re being ridiculous,”_ Dipper told himself. He shrugged up his shoulders and gave his arms a little wiggle to shake off the creeps. _“It’s just your imagination. Just calm down.”_

This was simply an old, beautiful castle, the villagers were paranoid, and the Count was an ordinary person. A very _rich_ person, yes, but still human. Nothing more, nothing less. It would do no good to inspire fear of the place he was staying for several months.

Regardless of his soothing, Dipper still kept his gaze down on the red and blue patterned carpet and Count Cipher’s heels. The flooring had changed up once they hit the second floor up the stairs. In his peripheral vision, he saw silver cob-webbed doors pass by. He had a feeling they’d creak and snap off their hinges from how long it’d been since they’d been opened.

Suddenly, the Count spoke.

"Tell me, my friend, what blood type do you have?"

Dipper’s head snapped up, eyes wide and owlish. Count Cipher hadn’t turned or looked over his shoulder to see him, but continued on forward like it was the most normal confession in the world. 

What did he mean by blood type? _Why_ did he need to know that in the first place? Was this some joke, like Dipper was being hazed? Or Count Cipher trying to scare him off?

"Um, what? I have O+, but why do you ask such a question, Count?” The journalist blinked twice.

"Call me Bill, please.” Bill waved his hand dismissively, a hearty chuckle highlighting his words. “You are my guest and it would be better not to use such formalities. About my question, well… I understand you do know about the terrible disease that appeared in the village, yes?”

"You mean that one caused by bats? Yes, I heard about it."

"Well, I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you during your stay here. You see, I have a strong allergy to garlic so I cannot prevent bats from getting inside of the castle and actually trying to bite you. So if they did, I'd like to know your blood type so doctors can do a transfusion,” Bill explained in a calm voice. “But otherwise I assure you that you have nothing to fear." 

When Bill looked over his shoulder and caught Dipper’s eye, he appeared anything _but_ calm. Actually… he looked excited. His eyes crinkled and gleamed in a manner that made Dipper shiver and his lips were pulled into a little smirk. It was as if this new information about Dipper was somehow pleasing him!

But again, it was probably just Dipper's imagination.

“I thought that the garlic was more traditional and less necessity,” Dipper replied. “Do bats still make people sick?”

“Ah, yes, yes,” Bill answered. “It’s much less urgent now that it was at its beginning, but it is not uncommon to still have some cases.”

Damn. They should really look into the bats’ ecosystem sometime.

After walking for a while, Bill stopped them at a specific door on the right. As a proper gentleman, he opened it and let Dipper enter first with a grand, swooshing gesture. As soon as the journalist stood inside, he gasped in amazement. 

The large room was in a tower with a magnificent view of the mountains. It had a high wooden ceiling made of planks and thick spruce beams. The floor was also wooden, but covered with various patterned carpets. With each step Dipper took, the floor creaked beneath him. It was to be expected, though, considering the castle’s age.

He began to walk around the room, taking a closer look at everything he could. It was equipped with old gothic furniture: a corner wardrobe, a dresser, a table with a leather chair, and two bedside tables; everything was made of creamy oak wood with very precise carving and decoration. Evidently, these were made with a careful hand.

The most fascinating thing about the room, however, was the four-poster bed. As the rest of the furniture, it was made of oak, carved and with red sheets. The top frame arched into brilliantly crafted crown-like designs, almost as if it was designed for royalty. Just the sight of the fluffy feather-filled pillows and duvets made Dipper want to jump in and inhale their scent. He hoped they smelled like flowers. 

In the corners of the room were two large, smoking candlesticks, on the bedside table an old-fashioned lamp, and a giant fireplace with a rocking chair next to the door.

Compared to the rest of the castle, this room made a cozy and clean impression. There were no cobwebs, no dust, and it smelled like old books (which Dipper absolutely loved).

"Do you like it?" the Count asked, closing the door behind them. 

"Oh, yes! It's so beautiful. Thank you, Count!” Dipper turned to him enthusiastically, beaming. He watched as Count Cipher walked over to the teapot and poured Dipper a cup of tea. The drink was still hot, so the Count must have made it just before Dipper’s arrival. Wisps of steam floated off of the cup. 

"Bill, Mr. Pines, just call me Bill. If you want, I will also call you by your first name. It's Mason, isn't it?” He waved Dipper over and handed him the cup of tea. 

Dipper’s lips set into a soft frown as he cupped the mug in his hands. Just as he thought he’d escape that name, this comes up. He didn't like being called by his birth name at all. If he could ever choose his name, it certainly wouldn't be something as boring and ordinary as ‘Mason.’

"Yes, but I don't like to be called like that,” he replied. “Just call me- "

"Pinetree!" Bill shouted, interrupting Dipper. The nearby candle sticks made his eyes nearly _glow_ in excitement, a large grin on his lips.

"Excuse me?" Dipper raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"I will call you _Pinetree_ , my dear friend!” Bill gestured towards him pointedly, almost as if he were declaring Dipper a title. “It is the perfect nickname for you. I mean, look at you! You are thin and small, just like every sapling that grows in my castle garden. You even _smell_ like a forest… But of course, I'll call you that only if you agree.” He sat down in the rocking chair with an elegant swoosh. Dipper also sat down on the bed behind him.

"No, I don't mind at all. In fact, I like this nickname almost as much as the one I currently use.” Dipper smiled and sipped from his cup of tea. It was chamomile one, great for a good sleep and stress relief. There was also a plate of cookies on the bedside table. The earl must have thought of everything!

The next several hours were filled with conversation jumping from topic to topic. At first Bill asked about Dipper’s journey to the castle, which led to Dipper talking about his home in Oregon, and then reminiscing over their childhoods and whatever else stemmed from what was mentioned. Bill seemed to like listening to Dipper speak a lot more than talk about himself. Dipper found it almost flattering.

Dipper finally asked what had been stuck in his mind nagging him when a lull fell between them.

“Can I ask you something? It’ll sound kind of… Odd.” Dipper set the cup he’d been holding most of the time down on the nightstand table.

Bill eased back in the rocking chair. “Be my guest, Pinetree. What are you wondering?”

“Are you aware that the villagers are terrified of this place?” Dipper feared he came off as accusatory, but he’d never get his answers unless he asked them. He truly didn’t understand why Helga was so afraid of him coming here. He just hoped that Bill wouldn’t be offended.

Dipper’s worries instantly ceased when Bill began to laugh. It wasn’t necessarily a _genuine_ sound, but knowing and nonchalant. It echoed, bouncing off of the walls surrounding them.

“Yes, yes, I am. They have been afraid of my family and I for as long as I can remember,” he explained, letting his long, pale fingers rest over his amused grin. Bill gestured dismissively with the other.

“Why?”

“We have been the only family of high status in Midnight Hollows,” Bill explained, crossing one leg over the other. “And we do not exactly originate here either, in culture or values. That is to say, we are very different. No one likes different, do they? Being different is the source of humanity’s atrocities after all.”

He spoke ‘humanity’ like it was foreign compared to him, like he was an outsider observing. It was… interesting.

Dipper liked interesting. He liked different.

Dipper pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. Perhaps this was something to note for his journal article… If he ever got to it in the first place. 

“I see. Well… It’s unusual that they are genuinely petrified by you and this castle. Did your family get into a disagreement with them?” Dipper asked. It didn’t make sense for them to be mortally afraid just because someone appears different. They would need a true, physical reason to fear for their life, especially to go as far as claiming someone went missing here.

Bill shrugged. “Perhaps. It is inevitable, but I do not recall any issues in particular. The main reason most now are afraid is because of the rumors.”

“Rumors?”

“Yes. You know, ones of defamation. ‘ _Oh, they are going to slice you open_ ’ and ‘ _I heard they eat newborns for breakfast,_ ’ so on and so forth.” Bill made wiggly motions with his fingers to accompany the spooky rumors. “Easier to hate someone, or make others hate someone, if you make up a reason and make it sound real.”

Dipper knew this very well. It came with his career-- every good journalist worth their salt knows the effects of misinformation, studies them, and avoids spreading it. It was part knowing how society consumes information and the ethics of news reporting.

“I can’t imagine that’s very fun to deal with,” Dipper replied softly.

Bill’s eyes met Dipper’s and he smiled. “Not quite, but it is not hard to ignore, especially given how far away I am from them. Do not worry, Pinetree. All is well.”

They talked for a few more minutes until the clock struck 1 o’clock in the morning and Dipper could barely keep his eyes open. The entirety of the day caught up with him like a freight train.

Bill looked up towards the clock and stood. “I am sorry I have made you stay up for so long. You must be exhausted from traveling, so please rest well. We will talk more tomorrow.”

Dipper nodded sluggishly, pushing himself up from his slouch against the beam of the bed. The trains in Romania were _very_ noisy and kept shaking while running, so he couldn't rest in them even for a minute.

Before Bill reached for the doorknob, he turned once more to Dipper.

"Oh, I almost forgot! This castle has certain rules that I would like you to follow. "

"Rules? What rules, may I ask?” Dipper asked, trying to not sound rude.

"I only have 2 rules. First, never sleep outside of your bedroom. Believe me when I tell you that it has its reasons,” Bill explained. How cryptic. “And second, do not try to get into locked rooms. Some rooms in the castle are in a poor condition and I wouldn't like you to get yourself hurt. Plus I also need some privacy. I hope you understand that.” 

Dipper had to keep back a shiver as Bill looked into his own hazel eyes. They were piercing and knowing, even though they had only spoken truly for two hours.

"I see,” he replied. “Well, I will try to follow those rules. After all, it's your home and I'm your guest.” Dipper smiled and blew out the candles on the bedside table. It was time to go to bed.

Bill opened the door and gave Dipper a big smile. "Good night, my dear friend. Sleep well. Don't let the bedbugs bite you.” First his heels clicked against the wooden floor as he left the room, then the door as it shut quietly. 

Dipper, too tired to get up and change into his pajamas, quickly fell into a deep sleep in the many blankets.

But little did he know, he was in danger of being bitten by something other than bed bugs…


	3. Chapter 3

It's been 3 weeks since Dipper arrived at Midnight Hollow, and during this time, he noticed several things about the castle and the Count himself. 

For example, he met the Count  _ only  _ at night. Not once has Dipper ever encountered him during the day when the sun fought hard enough to peek around the mountains a bit. This could be explained, because as Bill said "he was outside the castle during the day, taking care of his  _ business _ ." He also claimed that he was a night owl and that he was very reluctant to get up early. It was explainable, but nothing Dipper had ever experienced.

From what Dipper managed to do a research about Count Cipher, he found out that the man also owned several blood banks. Count Cipher even sponsored charitable events with blood donations. Dipper never thought this man would be so generous and kind-hearted, considering the usual behavior of the rich, but it was a nice surprise.

What was strange, however, was that Dipper had never seen him leave or come to the castle. The carriage and its horses  _ should _ be hauling back and forth daily from how busy Count Cipher was, but Dipper didn’t hear or see one glimpse of the carriage since his arrival.

However, these weren’t the only things that caught the journalist's attention. He documented his findings and discoveries in a letter to his sister Mabel.

_ June 26th, 2021 _

_ Dear Mabel, _

_ How have you been doing? Is everything okay in Gravity Falls? I hope Ford is doing as great as I am now. When I left, he was doing some research on supernatural creatures, wasn't he? Keep an eye on him to get some sleep from time to time, okay? You know what he's like when he's immersed in his studies. Not gonna lie, I would need to get used to sleeping regularly too. You see, my sleep schedule has changed a lot since I started living with the Count Cipher. I usually go to bed around three o'clock in the morning and I sleep until noon. Knowing me, that’s crazy, isn’t it? I just don't want to waste a chance to talk to the Count.  _

_ From what I found out about him, Count Cipher is a very busy man. We only see each other at night when he's returned from work.  _ ~~_ We sit by the fireplace, talking about everything and anything, you know? Wait... no, don't get me wrong! There is  _ _ nothing  _ _ between me and him! (I know you and your “shipping” thing all too well). Yes, he is quite a handsome gentleman and is nice to me… but that does not mean that I would like him or something!! Ugh, please ignore what I wrote. _ ~~

__

_ Well, where was I - oh I know! About him and his sleep. As I say, he spends almost all night with me. Although, I have no idea when this man sleeps since he is travelling and working during the day. But he doesn't seem tired. Quite the opposite. _

_ However, I must mention that I prefer to be awake at night than during the day. Because as soon as the sun rises on the horizon, the castle seems to have died down. It's weird how different it is. During the day it is almost lifeless, as if it were completely abandoned. Not that there was a  _ _ big  _ _ difference during the day and night time, speaking about inhabitants. As far as I could count, there are only 3 people living in the castle besides Bill and I: a maid, Pyronica; a servant, Keyhole; a coachman, Eightball. No, those are not their real names but the nicknames that the Count uses. However, I don't know their actual names yet. (I need to ask them about it soon)  _

_ These three servants can only be seen working at night with the exception of Keyhole. He works both day and the night. (How is he still alive and full of energy, I have no idea.) I have a weird feeling about him. He is so short, constantly giggling and trying to be as close to the Count as possible. If I could compare him to anyone, it would be “Igor” from the book Frankenstein. Nevermind that. _

_ As I mentioned, the three of them work at night. However, only two work during the day: the Keyhole and the other maid, but it’s not Pyronica. You must be thinking, "But Dip-Dop, you said that  _ _ only  _ _ 3 count's employees live in the castle!" And technically, it's true, because the maid who works during the day is always changed by another so they can't even settle down properly. Since I've arrived here, 3 have been exchanged, each maid lasting for one single week.  _

_ The first was named Marie, the second Lily and the third (current) is Lucy, I think? I'm not sure. When I asked Keyhole why the earl changed them so often, he explained to me that "he is never truly satisfied with their services, so he simply dismisses them." I don't know what to think-- are the maids really that bad or is the earl just too picky? However, I have no right to speak to him in these matters. He is the owner of the castle and he decides who works for him. I'm more worried about what's going on with them. Compared to Pyronica, they look much worse. It's always the same: the first three days are full of enthusiasm and zeal, and then they gradually turn into a silent sad human shell. They are so pale, exhausted, and look as if they are about to die. Would the earl really be so cruel to them? I'll try to talk to him and see if he could be nicer to them. _

_ However, if I omit this fact about the Count, he  _ _ is  _ _ a very nice person. At least to me. Not that there are many people I can spend time with. It turned out that due to the fact that the Count is almost always outside the castle, having only one carriage, no one can take me back to the village. I've already asked Pyronica if I could walk there, but she warned me it wasn't a good idea. The trip would take me over 3-4 hours and it is already dark at that time. I guess I don't have to explain to you why it's not safe to be outside after dusk. Just listening to those terrifying howls of wolves from the window of my room gives me goosebumps. I'm not sure how I would act if one of these beasts was actually standing in front of me. But who knows, maybe if I was you, I could find your dream “werewolf boyfriend” here! Haha! Sorry, I'm just kidding.  _ ~~_ No I’m not. _ ~~

_ Well, back to Count Cipher. Since I can't take my way back to the village yet, he offered me the opportunity to do research in his “reading corner.” Pfft, in my opinion, it's a very modest name for "a private library the size of 2 Mystery Shacks crammed to the ceiling with ancient books and novel collections." It is my most favorite place in the whole castle. I spend every day there, in a chair reading about the history of the castle and the village. Did you know that this castle, for example, was built in the 10th century? Amazing, isn't it? Not surprising, but still astounding. Unfortunately, most books here are in Latin or Romanian. So could you ask Grunkle Ford to send me his Latin-English dictionary from home? Thanks. _

_ I'm sorry this letter is so long, but so many things have happened in those few weeks that it's impossible for me to write everything in detail in one letter. I'm also afraid that this will be our only way to communicate with each other during my stay here because there is no such thing as electricity, and in some mysterious way, my phone broke down during my first days at the castle. _

_ Take care of yourself and say hi to Waddles and Ford. I'll send you my next letter soon. _

_ Your loving brother, _

_ Dipper _

_ \------------------------------------------- _

The roaring fireplace sent rolling heat into all areas of the room equally, something that Dipper had never been able to achieve at home. The darkness outside threatened to seep in through the window, but the light from the fire and the candles fought it away.

It was quite cozy, actually. The howling wolves outside continued on as usual, but Dipper had grown so accustomed to the sound that it was easy to ignore.

It was 10 PM and he was standing by the wall of his bedroom. There was a bowl of water on the table in front of him, a bottle of shaving cream, and a small mirror hung on the wall. During the time he had been here, stubble had grown on his face in pathetic, almost patchy swaths. He preferred his face to be clean-shaven, so the only solution was to shave it. 

Unfortunately, only after arriving at the castle did he realize that he had only taken an electric razor from home with him. Which was pretty  _ useless  _ at the castle. So he had to ask Keyhole to lend him his straight razor.

"Careful, careful," he murmured to himself, moving the blade carefully up his neck. He was afraid he would cut himself, especially with such a…  _ lethal _ type of blade. Honestly, he would rather put the razor down and leave it at that. But on the other hand, he didn't want to look like a hobo in front of Bill… for multiple reasons.

One of those reasons was that he was starting to actually like him. There was the type of customary decency and liking, in which one has nothing against the person they have just met. However, this was something different. Dipper had known Bill for several weeks and every single time he saw Bill, his heart jumped and fluttered in his chest. He was safe and comfortable with Bill.

He was unbelievably fond of Bill, but unbelievably nervous too. He didn’t understand why, because he had no reason to be afraid other than the weird nocturnal behavior, but his palms always got sweaty and his limbs shaky when Bill got near him.

Strangely, it also happened when Dipper wondered about Bill’s companionship. Surely a Count of his age, status, and beauty was taken. Pyronica was very close to Bill, so she was the closest guess to being Bill’s partner-- however, Dipper recalled that Pyronica had described herself to be more of a daughter than anything else.

“It isn’t really his area,” she had explained to him while leading him down one of the hallways. “He’s very solitary.” Bill preferred to be on his own, so Dipper’s presence here was remarkable.

Dipper ignored how special that made him feel.

Dipper didn't know why he cared how the earl perceived him either. Maybe it was because of how well Bill took care of him as a host. How he laughed at Dipper's amusing stories and the way he smiled whenever he looked at him. Each time Dipper saw his smile, it was as if his heart raced and butterflies filled his stomach. His chest would warm up and he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but with Bill.

As he continued to shave, Dipper looked at himself in the mirror. The travel mirror he took with him was probably the only mirror in the castle. Why this was, he had no idea. He glanced around the room behind him through the reflection as he pondered-- of the mirrors, of his stay here, of the Count himself.

A hand that shouldn’t have been there suddenly landed on his shoulder.

Dipper screamed and jumped, causing the razor to slip and cut the skin of his throat. The stinging hit him like a bat to the face and he feared that he’d done some horrible damage, but when he slapped his hand to the wound, it barely brimmed with blood. He must have been horribly frightened to cause that. 

“What the f--” Dipper whipped around to see Count Cipher standing behind him. 

"Good evening, my dear Pinetree,” Count Cipher greeted him. He looked like he hadn’t just scared the life out of the poor guy.

Dipper stared at him in shock. What- how? The whole room behind him was displayed, but there was no sign of a man in it, except Dipper himself! How come he didn't see the Count coming? 

"Oh, it's just you, Bill. You kinda scared me.” Dipper tried to calm his heart rate down and gave Bill a little smile. As always, the Count looked amazing. It never happened that he was uncombed or did not have his cravat tied up perfectly. 

"Kind of?” Bill laughed. “That was not just--  _ oh _ , you cut yourself! You need to be more careful with the razor.” He leaned in to peer at the wound with a deep, disapproving frown.

Dipper’s heart sped up for reasons entirely different than fear.

Something must have angered Bill in that moment, for as soon as he noticed the mirror on the wall, he grabbed it and walked over to the window. His expression screwed up in affront.

"Look! This is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. Such a foul bauble of man’s vanity. Away with it!” Bill shouted. As he opened the heavy window with one wrench of his hand, he flung out the mirror, and it shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below. He then closed the window without another word.

Dipper… had no words. Nothing came to him in coherent sentences due to the sheer anger that quickly scorched his insides, so he was left gawking and looking back and forth between the window and Bill. 

That mirror was part of his  _ belongings _ and Bill had put his hands on it and  _ broke it. _ He threw it out the fucking window!

It wasn’t even that the mirror was especially important, because he could always get another one back home, but the  _ principle. _

“What in the Lord’s name was that?” Dipper snapped. “You can’t just take my things and do that!” Now he couldn’t even shave, let alone trust Bill with anything important to him.

It was very odd being angry at Bill. Dipper had been so used to being enamored with every meeting that he didn’t know how to process being upset with him.

Bill turned around, disturbingly calm, and replied, “I do apologize, Pinetree.”

“Apologize?  _ No. _ ” Dipper threw his hands up, forgetting about the cut on his neck altogether. “You’ve been very kind, Count, and I’m thankful for that, but you  _ do not _ get to break one of the  _ only _ functional things I have brought from home, let alone  _ anything _ of my possession, and expect to be completely fine with a simple apology.”

Dipper was so thankful that Count Cipher let him into his home for as long as he needed. He could have been off worse-- but it was also incredibly lonesome and alienating, and this incident was a mini catalyst to his emotions.

It has been nearly one month of his three month stay and Dipper has been able to do  _ nothing. _ Nothing at all of importance to why he came here in the first place. The carriage is out every single day, so he is not able to go into town, and if he cannot go into town, he can’t talk to anyone and gather information on the missing persons case. Essentially, all his time in Midnight Hollows has been worthless. 

He would have been okay if there were more people in the castle, but  _ no-- _ there were exactly four other people in this castle and none of them actually talked to him. Three were busy workers that he would have to beg to accompany and one was an elusive Count who he can only reach when he should be asleep.

Dipper was all on his own for the most part. He was lonely and frustrated and to see the one person who gave him some relief from it being so careless was extremely upsetting.

When he looked up, his teeth sunken into his bottom lip, he almost laughed. The look of shock, discomfort, and guilt on Bill’s face was entirely uncharacteristic.

It was very clear that Bill wasn’t used to being wrong.

Bill glanced uncomfortably at the shards of glass shining in the moonlight on the ground from through the window. “You are right,” he replied quietly. “I should not have done that and I apologize. I will replace it before you return home.” The words were slow and unnatural, calculating to placate Dipper.

“Please do.” Dipper frowned and turned away. Now he had a face full of shaving cream, a bloodied straight razor, and no way to finish the job. He sighed and reached for the towel next to him.

One of Bill’s large hands covered his own and encouraged an exchange of the razor. “Let me help you, my friend.”  _ Let me make it up to you, too _ lingered unspoken between them.

Dipper reluctantly agreed. It was better to let Bill help him than do it without a mirror by himself. 

Bill directed Dipper to sit down on a chair since he had no longer a reason to stay by the wall. He then transferred the bowl of water close, took the towel, and draped it along Dipper’s shoulders and chest. With that, he got to work with the razor.

Dipper closed his eyes as Bill tilted his head ever so gently and took the first few strokes of the razor. The motions and rhythms laid themselves into Dipper’s bones and eased him. At first every sense he had was on alert, new to having someone be so close, but it faded into comfortability.

The more comfortable Dipper became, the more  _ observant _ too.

Bill’s hands were quick and experienced, but gentle, almost like Dipper was the most precious thing in the world. There was consideration in how he angled the razor and slid over the curves of Dipper’s jaw, the small and quiet scrapes just as loud in Dipper’s ears as his own heartbeat.

Dipper’s hands shook. He clutched them in his lap to keep them still. There was no reason to be so increasingly flustered, but it… It crept up before he realized it, because as soon as he noticed one thing, others flooded in.

Their faces were so  _ near. _ One little turn to the left and a lean of an inch, maybe two, and their lips could be pressing--

No. No, Dipper couldn’t think like that.

But the trust that went into this, into trusting someone with a weapon so close to your throat, into  _ having _ someone trust you with that weapon, made Dipper’s heart race. The sound of the blood in his ears suddenly overpowered the prickly scrapes of each stroke. He loved it; he loved how  _ romantic _ and almost domestic sitting here felt, to be taken care of. He knew he shouldn’t because they were only friends,  _ yet-- _

They didn't talk, but Bill hummed some kind of tune. Dipper never heard it before but he had to say it sounded very nice to his ears.  _ Anything Bill did would be nice to his ears. _

Bill's fingers were cold on Dipper’s warm skin. He did his best not to lean into them, because despite the contrast, it was just as soothing as the rest of the atmosphere. Maybe if Dipper closed his eyes, drank in the minuscule ticks of time, he could suspend these moments into infinities and never have to let them go.

The contrast reminded him of something rather bittersweet. Several years back in school, he met a sweet boy named Caleb and they dated for about 8 months before Dipper felt he could move their relationship to a higher level. In hindsight, Dipper didn’t know whether he  _ truly _ wanted to become intimate with Caleb or if it was a sense of pressure, given he was the last one in his classes who still has not had sex before. At the time, he felt it was right up until he was lying on the bed, being kissed and preparing for his clothes to be taken off, for his skin to be touched. It became glaringly evident to him that this was wrong; Caleb’s hands did nothing to him, for they did not have love or lust, let alone spark it within Dipper’s core. It was just… uncomfortable and ice cold.

Dipper ended up leaving the bed before they could go further and broke up with him a few days later.  _ “You’re not the right one for me, I’m afraid,” _ he’d said.

But this time, it was different. Bill’s hands were chilly, almost worryingly so, but they made Dipper’s skin burn in desire. He wanted Bill to touch him more, touch him everywhere, hold him close so sweetly yet touch him dirty.

Dipper could sit there all night if the Count would continue being so tender. The connection tugged at his heart strings.

Dipper shoved down a sudden shiver as Bill’s breath brushed against his cheek. Blood quickly rushed up and turned them red as the noticed proximity made him want to squirm as more… sexual thoughts filled his mind.

Soft hands, very skilled, and lips so close, Dipper could only wonder what else Bill could do to--

_ No. _ God, Dipper was hopeless.

Unfortunately, after a while, the Count stopped and stepped away. Dipper opened his eyes and noticed that the Count walked over to the mantelpiece, his back to the brunette.  _ "Huh, is he done yet? That was pretty fast," _ he thought, touched his now-smooth face. He felt a twinge of mourning sadness in his heart, but pushed it away.

He looked over to the Count, and as he watched, he noticed that Bill was  _ shaking. _ Bill appeared almost as if he were experiencing withdrawal symptoms or something. 

"Bill, are you okay?" Dipper asked gingerly. 

"Blood... is flowing from the cut,” Bill whispered to him.

Dipper furrowed his brows in confusion. What cut--  _ ohhh, wait. _ He lifted a hand to where he accidentally sliced himself and it came away red and fresh.

Well, yeah, that’s what cuts do. They bleed. Was… Was Bill  _ afraid _ of blood? Even feel sick by looking at it? 

Dipper would understand if he actually did. He knew a lot of people who were scared of blood, with his father being one of them. The women in his family were surely much more accustomed to blood than his father.

He laughed a little and looked at the Count. "Oh, you mean that little scratch?” He glanced around to find his shaving pouch. There were some supplies in there for these instances. “It's nothing to worry about. I'll just put a patch on it and--"

"NO!" Bill suddenly shouted, grabbing Dipper by the wrist. Dipper jumped from the volume. His eyes were the mysterious red again, staring intently into Dipper’s own hazel. 

Nervous and near nauseating butterflies bounced around Dipper’s stomach. What did the Count plan to do? Help him stick the patch on the cut? Show him where the first aid kit is? 

Or… let him bleed out?

Bill’s hand pulled him out of his thoughts, brushing the hair from his forehead, revealing Dipper's birthmark.

Bill had noticed it during Dipper's second week at the castle when he found him in the bedroom combing his hair. Of course, he asked about it and was amused when Dipper explained that he had got his nickname because of this birthmark. However, Bill didn't say a word that it seemed ugly to him. No, not one mocking word, but instead stated "that it makes Dipper all the more beautiful and unique." If Dipper didn't know him, he would think he had  _ complimented  _ him at that moment. 

But now the earl was only inches from Dipper’s face, trembling and muttering something like, "I-- I can't hold back anymore.”

Before Dipper could react, Bill’s lips were on his own.

Everything stopped. Time, sounds, _ life… _ Everything around them seemed to stop existing for a second. It was just him and Bill.

Dipper was so shocked that he couldn't move at all. He was frozen, only his lips were hot when in contact with Bill’s.  _ "This must be a dream. There's no way this is real,"  _ he thought as he surrendered to that sweet kiss. His heart was pounding so fast that such an amount of blood flowing in his head made him feel dizzy. Bill’s taste and scent went to his head and made it fuzzy.

Lost in the moment, Dipper closed his eyes and enjoyed every bit of those soft lips. It was so embarrassing yet a beautiful moment for them. Bill was freezing as always, but every part of this stoked a fire in Dipper’s belly and warmed his cheeks.

The earl's lips moved away from him around the time Dipper needed air and moved to his neck. Dipper didn't understand what was going on until… Bill  _ licked _ the cut with his tongue. 

Dipper didn't know how, but this touch somehow woke him from this trance and brought him back to reality. He shivered and squirmed in something akin to discomfort. What the hell was he doing?! 

Dipper pushed Bill away from him, face burning, and ran out of the room.

_ \------------------------------------------- _

He quickly became lost. It wouldn’t be the first time this happened to him; after all, the castle was large, and with so many rooms and corridors, it created a maze that was sometimes very difficult to get out of. 

_ "Okay, how to get to the library..?" _ he thought to himself, looking around. He didn't remember ever being there before. It must have been the western wing of the castle because Count Cipher never took Dipper there in his tours. This was because most of the doors were locked there, and apart from a few bedrooms and servants’ rooms, there was no room for Dipper to spend time in. 

Not to mention, it was also a much scarier part of the castle. The west wing was much colder and darker than the rest of the structure with spider webs stretching corner to corner and dust settling deep in every nook and cranny. After every couple doors, the hallway stretched up into a long archway. The periodic windows patterned windows followed the same shape. Finally, a few torches were nestled into the grand, doric columns with patterns and etchings carved into the stone.

It could be beautiful, but the darkness made it fearsome.

He wondered if it would be best to try to go back to his room when he heard footsteps. Dipper quickly pressed himself against the wall near a column in an attempt to hide. He wasn't supposed to be in this part of the castle at all. Dipper peered carefully around the corner to see who was there. 

It was Keyhole. He held a lantern in his hand, a black bag in the other, and did not seem to notice Dipper’s presence. 

On the contrary, Dipper noticed how  _ suspicious  _ the servant was. Where was he creeping so late? And what was in that bag? 

Curiosity overcame Dipper's fear and he decided to watch the short man  _ inconspicuously _ . At least Keyhole could take him to parts of the castle that are more familiar to him. 

However, Keyhole was doing the opposite of taking him towards the familiar areas. He continued on into the unknown. The corridors became darker and darker, less reminiscent of the interior of the castle the boy knew. Therefore, Dipper had to be careful not to lose sight of the man. He watched as Keyhole walked into a small hall with a stone staircase.

This staircase wasn’t massively spiraling like others in the castle, but it was nestled against the wall and curling up onto another balcony-like level of the castle.

Keyhole walked slowly down the stairs, then turned right. Dipper did the same. To his surprise, however, the man was nowhere to be seen. He had… completely disappeared.

Dipper blinked wide eyed and looked all around him. Surely he was mistaken, had just lost track of Keyhole. However, it was as if there was no one else in this part of the castle except for Dipper himself.

How was that possible? After all, the corridor next to the stairs was long, so there was  _ no way _ he wouldn't see him walking there. He also didn't hear Keyhole run or go in another direction. It was a mystery.

Dipper looked around to see if there was a door through which Keyhole could enter. Nothing. There were a few portraits as usual, windows and one large tapestry on the wall, but there was nothing-- the lower half of the hall was empty. But there must have been an explanation for where the servant had disappeared!

Then Dipper noticed something. There was a soft wind from somewhere, like it was traveling through a funnel-- which was weird, because all the windows and upstairs doors were closed. Or... were they?

He walked around the hall, trying to find a place where he could hear the wind. The sound came from where the tapestry hung. But why so? 

He took a piece of tapestry and picked it up. Behind it was just an ordinary stone wall. However, something did not seem right here. 

Dipper put his hand on the cold wall, trying to find any crack in the wall, the source of the wind coming from. It was scratchy as stone usually was, nothing--  _ wait. _

Dipper gasped as his fingers suddenly sank  _ into _ the stone with a  _ click. _ The wall suddenly shook, and before he could do anything, the wall turned away from him like a turnstile and he fell into it.

_ \------------------------------------------- _

What the--? Where was he? Why was it so dark? 

The frightened Dipper looked around, shoving his hands out in front of him to feel around. It was pitch black everywhere, he couldn't even see his shoes. He closed his eyes for a few moments to try to adjust his eyes to the darkness around him. When he peeled them open, the shapes around him slowly took form. 

Dipper seemed to be in a secret corridor. He had already read about secret doors and rooms, but did not expect  _ this _ castle to have any. In hindsight, that conclusion was foolish. But where did this passage lead? Dipper walked slowly down the passage, touching the wall beside him.

After a few steps, he noticed a torch. Apparently Keyhole must have set it on fire as he walked there. The brunette took it in his hand and, satisfied that he had a source of light, continued on his way. He hoped he was going in the right direction.

_ Every _ single damn thing about this castle had no business being so unnerving as it was. The secret passage was an example of this. Cobwebs strung corner to corner, bats hung sleeping upside down from the ceiling, and he even saw several rats scurrying around. His stomach clenched.

Dipper reached the staircase, leading down to the bigger darkness. As he walked slowly down the stone steps, he heard some strange noises. He wasn’t sure how to describe them… But he likened them to more wind, or the rats’ paws scuttling, and scraping of footsteps off in the distance. 

When he finally went down all the stairs, he knew where he had come.

Dipper found himself in the castle crypt. He knew right away that it was a crypt because he saw three stone coffins in front of him. 

The room was huge and darker than the night sky. The walls and floor were made of stone bricks with a high ceiling with a ribbed vault and massive stone columns. They shone on the walls, revealing not only stone statues but also rusty shackles in which  _ skeletons’ _ hands were. Two newer wooden coffins rested against the sides.

Dipper swallowed nervously. Until that moment, he was relatively calm, but now he somehow felt his stomach tighten with  _ fear _ . His body shook despite him trying to keep still. 

Something told him he shouldn't be here. That this place wasn't safe for Dipper. 

The next logical step was to leave. Easy, right? However, he was so scared that he was afraid even to go back up the stairs. It was a daunting task, fearing what else he would discover-- or rather, what would discover  _ him. _

Dipper inhaled slowly and let it out just as fast. he still remembered the words of his great-uncle Ford:

_ "Always face your fear, my boy. Because once you run away, you'll be running away for the rest of your life.” _

So, he took all his courage and went to inspect the rest of the crypt.

He wouldn’t lie… It was a scary place,  _ really  _ scary. The dead silence was the scariest thing of all. Dipper almost  _ expected  _ some kind of a monster or killer to grab his shoulder and lead him into eternal darkness and never let him go. That would certainly be the case if he were the protagonist of some horror movie. Thank God this was not a film, but a reality. 

To keep himself calm, Dipper had to keep saying that those people in coffins were dead and they would always be just laying, non-attacking corpses, so he didn't have to worry so much. However, he also felt kinda ashamed for entering the tomb of the Cipher family without Bill's permission. How would he explain how he got there in the first place, right? Surely he would get in trouble for that.

Dipper paused and blinked. There was something at the end of the crypt. He couldn't say what from a distance, so he walked closer slowly until he could clearly see what it was. 

It was a heavy wooden door. Dipper wondered what was at the end of the door, so he pulled on the doorknob and went inside. It was  _ completely _ fine, like he totally wasn’t lurking around somewhere he shouldn’t be and was fucking himself over with every new step he took, right?

There was a coffin in the middle of the room. Completely alone. This coffin was made of stone, but it was also decorated with pure gold and was very precisely decorated. Depending on the quality of the gold, it had to be new or _very_ _well_ taken care of. Whoever it belonged to, they must have been a very noble and rich man. They must have been _important_.

Dipper stepped closer to the coffin to take a closer look. He looked for an engraved name of the dead person. No name. 

How come the candles on the candlesticks around the coffin were lit? And above all, why did it seem to Dipper that the coffin was warm, as if someone had been lying in it until recently?

Dipper's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Someone has entered the crypt! 

"Who's there?!" a voice called into the room. 

Dipper ran to hide behind a pillar. No one could see him. His heart was pounding with fear as he watched the door out of the corner of his eye. It was Keyhole, with no bag this time. He held a lantern in his hand and looked upset.

“I know you're in there. Where are you?!” Keyhole looked around, his lips pulled into a deep frown, when his gaze stopped at the pillar where Dipper was hiding. He walked slowly to him. 

_ "Oh, no, no, no. Please don't find me, don't find me!” _ Dipper prayed in his mind and pressed himself against the pillar as much as possible. He felt Keyhole at the pillar, ready to look behind it when suddenly--

“Keyhole! Here you are! Master Cipher wants to talk to you."

Pyronica stood behind the servant at the door. Oh, Dipper never expected his guardian angel to be this pink-haired girl. He watched as Keyhole turned and walked to her.

"Really?” he sighed. “What does he need this time?"

"He wants to talk about his dinner,” Pyronica replied, crossing her arms to warm them. “But I have to warn you, he's not in a very good mood…"

With each step they took, their voices were weaker and weaker, and after a few minutes, there was silence in the crypt again. Dipper didn't wait a minute and he headed for the stairs out of the crypt. He didn't want to risk meeting anyone here again. 

  
But he knew one thing now for sure. Very strange things were happening in this castle and he was ready to solve this  _ “mystery.” _


	4. Chapter 4

_July 2nd, 2021_

_Dear Mabel,_

_Something_ _very_ _strange is happening in this castle! I don't know exactly how to explain it, but I can tell you one thing for sure: someone died here, and if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I certainly wouldn't have found out about it._

_It happened a week ago. I was in my room when the Count came in, offering to help me with shaving. Well, and somehow he happened to kiss me (yes, it's amazingly incredible, but this isn't important now!). Of course I didn't expect it and ran away from the room. But while I was walking around the castle, I noticed Keyhole that he had something in his bag and was creeping suspiciously through the castle corridors. So, I followed him and managed to find a secret passage to some kind of crypt. Scary, isn't it? There were so many tombs..._

_After that terrifying experience, I couldn't sleep. I kept rolling on my bed and couldn't calm down. So I decided to read one of my favourite books. That helped me a lot. However, when the clock struck 6 o'clock in the morning, when the sun was rising here, I heard sounds from the castle courtyard. So I went to the window to see what noise it was at such an early hour. And I couldn't believe my eyes. There was a carriage down there. However, not the carriage of Count Cipher, but the_ _funeral_ _one, with a wooden coffin on it! The same wooden coffin I've seen in the crypt!_

_I honestly didn't know how to react. I mean, I couldn't ask the Count, "Oh, by the way, do you know if your servant Keyhole killed anyone?" All I did was ask Bill inconspicuously why I hadn't met Lucy - the maid -- that morning. To my surprise, the Count did not try to lie, even though it was clear that he was surprised to know that I knew about the girl's death. He told me with grief that the maid had died last night during her sleep as a result of a bat bite. He didn't sound like he was lying, but I still think something is suspicious about her death. I have to solve this mystery as soon as possible. That's the only way to finally understand what's going on here in Midnight Hollow._

_Keep your fingers crossed for me and take care of yourself. I'll write to you again soon._

_Your loving brother,_

_Dipper_

_\-------------------------------------------_

  
  


"So, how was your day, my dear Pinetree?" Bill asked as he poured wine for said Pinetree. 

It was 9 PM, dinner time. They sat in Bill’s private dining room, preparing to eat the food Pyronica and Keyhole had cooked for them with love. The reason they ate there, relatively small and unclassy compared to the big dining room downstairs, was because Dipper was deeply uncomfortable with it.

They had eaten in that big dining room about five or six times, and each time he was bothered by the fact that there was about 6 meters of table between him and Bill. With such a great distance, Dipper, accustomed to a family dinner at a small table, felt terribly lonely. This, and that there were so many statues and portraits all staring directly at him. Bill noticed his discomfort and suggested that from now on they have dinner in his private dining room on the second floor of the castle.

Honestly, the journalist liked this room much more. The fact that it was small only evoked a pleasant feeling of comfort, and with those candles around, also a romantic atmosphere. On the surrounding walls were bookcases full of old books, resting on a dark red carpet. Most of the things here were either made of oak (furniture) or spruce wood (walls, floor, ceiling). In the corner of the room was a tiled stove that heated the entire room and above their heads, a chandelier of candles hung. 

"It was fine, I guess. I spent most of the day doing my research in the library,” Dipper answered and drank his wine. 

Bill never drank wine, so the man poured himself into the glass with just a little bit of water. Dipper assumed that either the man was fundamentally opposed to drinking alcohol or simply preferred non-alcoholic drinks.

Together, they began to eat. That evening they had Sarmale - cabbage dumplings stuffed with tomatoes, cheese, and smoked sausage, one of the traditional Romanian dishes. It smelled wonderful and tasted even better.

“In your letters,” Bill spoke up, “you described coming here for research, but I never caught what it was.”

“Oh! Yeah.” Dipper set his fork down so he wouldn’t wave it around while he talked, as he often used gestures while speaking. “I’m researching-- or, well, I wanted to -- the disappearances around the area. More specifically the castle.”

“Oh?” Bill glanced up at him warily.

“Yes. There have been many, as far as I could research, and I’m very interested as to why. One case I’m particularly invested in is one of a 10 year old boy, about 2 years ago, who was last seen about 6 miles -- 10 kilometers? Yeah -- away from here.”

“Oh?” Bill glanced up at Dipper warily. “He was probably eaten by wolves. They do not have any fear for humans anymore.” His tone had dropped, just the slightest bit, from the jovial tone he usually kept. It must have been a touchy subject, given the subject was of a child.

Dipper’s lips pulled into a deep frown. That was… deeply unsettling. He hadn’t thought of that when he was thinking of the case. His mind had instantly gone to supernatural happenings or grand mysteries… Not a child being mauled and eaten by wild animals.

“I… guess, yeah.”

“The blame falls upon the parents for letting him play in the forest in the first place.”

Dipper paused. He furrowed his brows. “I never said anything about where he was.”

Bill blinked.

“Were you here when it happened?” Dipper wasn’t sure if Bill had lived in the castle for several years or just in the last, but Bill had accused the parents strong enough that Dipper had a feeling he experienced the disappearance first hand. Being around a grieving family, especially in such a small and close-knit village as Midnight Hollow, was never easy.

“Well, yes.” Bill gently swirled the water in his glass like it was wine. “And word travels from the village. It was a tragedy, really, quite so…”

“Do these things happen often?” Dipper hesitantly prodded. “I mean… The frequent disappearances and now the maid… There’s so much death around this place.”

“Mm.” Bill cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable with where the conversation had led them. There wasn’t much more of a response. The dropped conversation left a kind of tension between them that made Dipper’s skin crawl and stomach turn in guilt.

Dipper didn't like the fallen silence in the room. At the same time, he also didn't know what to ask the earl. So he ate dinner in silence and just from time to time looked at the man in front of him. 

Then there was a moment when their eyes met and Bill gave him a small smile. Dipper’s heart stuttered in his chest, nearly distracting him from the blood rushing to his cheeks. 

There he was again! He was so, so hopeless.

One question replayed continuously in the back of Dipper’s mind. One that nagged and ate at him in the most tedious of bites.

_"What did that kiss mean? Are we still friends or...?”_

Dipper never dared to say it out loud. There was simply too much at stake. He was nervous that it was a misunderstanding and that they would get into an awkward situation, which was _awful,_ given that he was living with the Count for another two months. He wouldn’t be able to stand that tension.

Plus, he really couldn’t imagine Bill-- a mysterious, charming, _gorgeous_ Count-- being interested in him: a lanky, awkward journalist with no social life. He couldn’t afford letting himself fantasize or get his hopes up.

Yet, despite his best judgement, Dipper still wondered what that night meant. After the incident, Bill acted as if it had never happened and they didn't even have a discussion on this subject.

Did it… mean anything? Was it something in the heat of the moment, a moment that Bill had the luxury to disregard? Or was it something Bill has wanted to do for a while, or was it something as a distraction, or--

What were they?

Dipper’s dinner suddenly wasn’t settling quite right. He stilled his bouncing knee, but when he brought his attention back to it a few seconds later, it had begun to bounce again. _Damn it._

This was going to eat him up inside, Dipper knew it. He had no slightest clue if Bill was as torn up about the kiss as he was, but it didn’t matter. Dipper Pines was in Cipher’s castle in Midnight Hollow for a reason and he would be damned if a little awkward relationship hitch ruined it all for him.

Dipper had to ask him. Opening his mouth felt like hinges cinched his jaw shut.

"Bill? Can I ask you something?"

Bill looked up. His shoulders relaxed. "Sure, Pinetree. What do you need to know?”

"I… Well, I mean… I want to ask about the night when…” Dipper stammered. He stuttered. _Fuck._

Why couldn't he say it? It was just a stupid question, not a marriage proposal or anything! Clarification, if you will, _any_ person in his place would need it. 

Still, Dipper couldn't find the right words in his head. He was just blushing in shame. It made Bill smirk.

"...Yes? Which night do you mean? We have had many together.” Bill’s leg brushed against his own. Dipper’s heart _lurched._

That wasn’t helping! God.

Either Bill was absolutely _clueless_ about what Dipper was trying to talk about or he was teasing him on purpose. It had to have been the former option. Bill would never have that tone of voice or smirk unless he knew something _about something._

That was one thing about him that Dipper had caught onto. Bill knew many things about many things and he always had a certain face he made for when he was holding something back. It was the equivalent of holding a book over a shorter person’s head just to make them jump. A lure.

Dipper flushed harder. He could only be relieved it couldn't be seen well in the dark room. But he knew that once he had begun the subject, he had to continue it. So, Dipper took a breath and said, "I mean the night when you--"

"Master Cipher!"

The Count's servant ran into the room just as Dipper was about to finish his sentence. Bill bristled, quite upset by this unexpected intrusion into the room. It completely destroyed all the atmosphere they had there. 

“Keyhole!” Bill snapped. “How many times have I told you not to disturb me and Pinetree when we have dinner together?! I hope you have a good reason to be here."

"Oh, yes! I wanted to let you know that we have a visitor!”

This gained attention from both men. Who would come to the castle? Let alone at such a late hour? 

Bill got up from his chair and walked over to Keyhole, toward the door. "Really? Then we should welcome them.” He turned to Dipper. "If you want, you can come with us, Pinetree. But if not, you can wait here. We will definitely talk about what you wanted to say later."

Dipper found the thought of waiting for Bill awkward, especially since he was nervous to ask his question even now. That is why he also got up from his chair and turned his head towards the Count. "I’ll come with you. I wonder who it may be."

They made their way to the main entrance.

"Oh, who do we have here?" Bill called, barely coming out of the castle. A gypsy caravan with a white horse stood in the castle yard. Dipper recognized it immediately by the number of colors and decorations. 

Its general shape was almost similar to a cartoon train caboose, rectangular in shape but with an orange, half-sphere roof. The sides were painted in idle patterns and decorated with flowy strips of ribbon hanging from the roof and stretching over the window nestled into one side. Above the doorway on the width side hung a cross.

As they inspected the caravan, a woman came out the door. She was tall and lean, about 40 years old. Her skin was caramel brown with smile lines near her lips, evident of a life being well lived. Her short thick black hair, most hidden under a red scarf on her head, framed her long, narrow face.

She reminded Dipper of what was considered ‘the typical gyspy’ style in the way that she dressed. She wore a long dark blouse with a polka dot pattern, three necklaces in different colors, a light blue long skirt up to the ankles with a poppy print, and one large purple scarf tied around the waist. She also wore no shoes and had gold round earrings in both ears and a rosary on her neck.

"Count Cipher! I'm glad to finally meet you! My mother often told me about you and your castle," the woman greeted in a high voice. She jumped down onto the stone pavement, reaching her hand out to Bill. "My name is Rosella Fateville, but everyone just calls me Madame Fate."

"Oh, yes, I recall! Mrs. Fate, yes, yes. I knew your mother, what a good woman she was.” Bill shook Madame Fate’s hand with both of his own and gave her a smile. 

Dipper felt that it was a fake smile and that Bill didn't quite like the visit. It was a bit too… strained, small, compared to the usual toothy grins he was accustomed to. He didn't know _why_ Bill was out of sorts, though.

"How come you are visiting us at such a late hour, Madame Fate?"

"I was traveling to a nearby town and thought I would stop here and offer you some of my special goods that I sell,” Madame Fate replied. “And I am sure that you, _Count_ , will certainly choose something. I have only the best quality.”

She addressed Bill’s title as if she was talking about some strange creature, not a man standing next to Dipper. Still, her offer seemed _tempting_ to Bill. Dipper could see it in the calculating gaze, the turn of the cogs in his mind, the purse of his lips. Surely his family was familiar with hers if he was so easily persuaded without a hitch.

Bill smiled again at Madame Fate and gestured to the castle door. “All right then, let us go inside and discuss it in my office. My servant will also make sure that he prepares you a room for the night.” 

To everyone's shock, Madame Fate sniffed, "No way. I'm not going to sleep in your _damn_ castle, not for even a single night. I will only sleep in my caravan. I will not go further than the entrance hall either. These are my conditions. Take it or leave it."

Dipper was shocked at how suddenly a pleasant lady became such a rude person. What was her problem? Dipper had lived here for a month and there was nothing to complain about. If he ignored the incident with the secret passage, the crypt and the mysterious death of the maid, of course. 

Bill frowned. “Are you positive? It is rather unsafe outside alone. Wolves and bats are much more brave out here.”

“I am positive.”  
  
“There is no telling the strength the wolves possess either. I have seen them tip over carts and carriages.”

“ _Kindly_ , no.” Madame Fate was patient, truly a godsend. “I have traveled to the most dangerous places on my own and have not fallen victim to misfortune. I will barely step foot into that castle; _do not_ make me repeat myself, please.”

Bill’s left eye twitched in annoyance. Dipper almost snickered, but bit his tongue to hold it back. 

With a grand, dramatic sigh that signified him choosing his battles, Bill said, “Very well.” He turned towards Dipper. “Pinetree, could you wait for me in the library? Once I am done here, we can finish what you wanted to say there.”

"Oh, no, no, that's okay! I forgot what I wanted to say anyway,” Dipper tried to lie and awkwardly laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. He had definitely lost all the courage he had in the dining room. He yawned. "I'm going to bed earlier today, I'm kinda tired."

Bill gave him a “Are you seriously trying to lie to me straight to my face?” look, which was quite unimpressed and held some dramatic eyebrow action, but he didn't say anything to it. He simply nodded and answered, "I see. So sleep well, my dear Pinetree. I will see you tomorrow."

Madame Fate immediately noticed the way the two men looked at each other. The exchange was quite strange, given what she knew about the Count. However, she also smiled and opened the door of her caravan. "Well, I'll show you what I can offer you. I'll just pull it out from the inside."

\-------------------------------------------

"Keyhole, can I ask you something?" Dipper asked cautiously as he climbed the stone steps with the servant behind him. He knew the way to his bedroom by heart, but it was always better when someone accompanied him there. Especially when the castle was so dark.

"Yes, what do you want to ask, Mr. Pines?" Keyhole’s steps were nearly silent behind Dipper’s. _Creepy._

"How… How exactly does Bill know the gypsy's family? I mean, a man of his status doesn't have much of a habit of talking to people of such low social status, does he?"

"Well, the Count is not quite like everyone else, is he? Hehe…” Keyhole knew something. Or, at least it sounded like he _meant_ to appear that way, which was just pretentious. Dipper squinted his eyes a little. “However, regarding your question, Mr. Cipher and his family have known Mrs. Fate's family for a very long time. In fact, records of their trades and businesses date back to the 12th century. Not that anyone in her family visited us here often. But when they arrive, they usually bring very interesting goods with them."

"What goods, if I may ask?"

"Various sorts of things. Books, fabrics, antiques… Most of it is very rare and expensive. Unfortunately, I can't tell you exactly what those things are. Only Master Cipher can talk about that."

"I see." Dipper nodded. Whatever _that’s_ supposed to mean…

They reached Dipper’s bedroom shortly afterwards. After a polite goodnight to Keyhole, Dipper slipped inside and changed into his night clothes. He blew out the candles around the perimeter of the room and finally extinguished the ones near his bed once beneath the covers.

The candles went out quickly, but Dipper did not. His mind raced and eyes demanded to remain open wide and stare up at the moon-lit ceiling.

What was Bill doing? Why couldn’t Dipper know about the things Madame Fate sells? The secrecy led Dipper to wonder if they were stolen goods, but he doubted Bill would ever do business with that level of thievery. _Expensive_ thievery to be more precise.

Dipper did not think that Bill was wholeheartedly ‘lawful good’ or particularly wont to following rules or customs to a T. He was a lovely man with an equally enchanting flourish to him, but something beneath his toothy grins and sparkly, ever changing eyes spoke of mischief. Of things he’s done that he shouldn’t.

Nothing helped Dipper. No matter how hard he tried, he could not sleep. Bill stuck to his thoughts like flies to honey. Bill and his damn castle.

Ever since the maid died, Dipper had become increasingly curious about what was going on in the castle. But not just about that. He also thought of the Count in a romantic sense.

He couldn’t help it. The more he pushed the thoughts away, the more they came and piled on top of him.

Dipper closed his eyes and tried to imagine Bill standing in front of him. As he stood close to him, his beautiful blond locks touching Dipper's chest. He could smell his cologne and how much like home it felt. 

Oh, how desperate Dipper was to hug him close, to press his own head against his muscular chest and inhale the scent of cinnamon and orange. He imagined the Count's cold hands touching his back, giving him a pleasant feeling of goosebumps. Every brush of his fingertips would make Dipper shiver, but he’d sink deeper against Bill’s chest.

Dipper’s fantasy flickered to them in bed, wrapped up in the blankets and limbs tangled. Dipper would have his head on Bill’s chest again, or maybe even Bill’s on his own chest for a change. Hearing the slow intakes and exhales of breaths. Heartbeats slowing as they fall asleep. Dipper smiled to himself a little at the thought of Bill’s hair tickling beneath his nose and he’d made a little mumble of a comment, but they wouldn’t move. Their hands would fold together, thumbs brushing across the backs of their hands in soothing motions.

Dipper was more than comfortable immersing himself in such a fantasy. He knew he most likely wouldn’t ever have a gentle night like he wished with the Count, but… It was enough to make him start feeling sleepy.

The warm and fuzzy fantasy slowly morphed into something more… _compromising._ Something Dipper would rather be caught dead with than admit. He had no care to direct his thoughts away though.

Their limbs were still tangled but for different reasons-- Dipper’s legs around Bill’s waist, wrists pinned up above his head. Bill’s hot breath, remnants of the shaving event, warmed his neck as he mouthed up the pale column of Dipper’s throat. The brunette could only moan and their hips would rock together, whispers full of promises of pleasure that made Dipper’s skin crawl in want. Their bodies melded together like they were made for each other.

Dipper shifted onto his side in bed and nearly froze. An erection brushed against the bedspread through his underwear.

Just before the door began to open. 

_Shit._

Someone entered the room. Dipper, turned around, froze and tried to breathe slowly. He pretended to be asleep. He’d had years and years of training in fear of being caught reading past his bedtime in his youth, but he still feared he’d be caught now.

The person walked slowly away from the door with soft clicks of their heels and sat down next to the bed. The chair creaked with their weight in the dead quiet room. 

Cold fingers touched Dipper’s cheek. It was the softest press, maybe even a caress. Butterflies filled Dipper’s stomach. The hand traveled to stroke Dipper's hair and face so gently, so utterly _careful_ and _precious_ that the brunette had to do his best not to blush. What was he doing here?

"I am sorry I couldn't come sooner," Bill muttered, almost in a whisper. "You don't even know how much I love talking to you, Pinetree. I look forward every day to our late night conversations... You look happiest in the candlelight.” A quiet sigh. “Maybe I can make it up for you tomorrow... Sweet dreams.” He leaned down. Cold lips pressed light against Dipper’s birthmark in a kiss.

He then quietly left the bedroom. As soon as the Count closed the door behind him, Dipper let his face flood with red. God, his heart was beating so fast that he feared it’d weaken and break down on him! His chest was the warmest it had ever been. 

There was _absolutely_ no way he was falling asleep that night.

Dipper also cursed Mabel’s name. He had fallen.

\-------------------------------------------

“Oh, what are you doing here so early, boy?” Madame Fate was surprised the next morning to see the brunette that had been with Bill approach her. 

It was about 2 hours after dawn and the castle in this state was very quiet and peaceful, nothing unusual compared to other days. Birds sang in the treetops and the horse, which was hitched to the caravan in the presence of Dipper, snorted and threw its head in displeasure.

"What are _you_ still doing here, Madame Fate? I thought you left as soon as you traded with Bill.” Dipper rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He himself was surprised to get up so early. But after last night's event, it was clear he had trouble falling asleep. (He preferred to stay in bed reading rather than risk dreaming of Bill.)

"Not really. Dulcinea needed to rest before we were ready to continue our journey through Romania.” Madame Fate patted her mare’s rump. “Just yesterday we covered over 80 kilometers, which is a huge distance for traveling within the Carpathians. So I'll let her rest for a while and we'll leave after lunch.” She smiled at Dipper, showing a golden tooth in her mouth. "Actually, would you like to go inside and have a cup of tea with me?"

Dipper gladly accepted it. After all, she could help him with his article and this investigation he was doing. It was well known that Gypsies were a nomadic tribe, so they saw and heard a lot of things around them. So there could be a chance she knew something about this mystery. Plus the idea that he could talk to someone now rather than being alone in the library was also very nice.

"It would be my pleasure." Dipper smiled in return and followed her inside the wagon.

When Dipper stepped inside, he was stunned.

The inside of the caravan looked as scary and fascinating as Ford's lab. Right from the first steps inside, his nose was struck by the strong scent of women's perfume and aroma sticks or incense. The space was small, but was filled up to the ceiling full of a myriad of treasures and objects. Candles, bottles of mysterious fluids, and books of magic and fortune telling were just a few of the things he noticed. These were the more tame possessions he’d found, though.

To his left lay a bottle on the shelf that contained something that looked like human fingers! The woman also had voodoo dolls, herbs, cards, crystals and, to Dipper's surprise, a human skull and a jar of eyes on the counter. He wondered if the skull or eyes were real or not, but he didn't have the guts to ask her. 

Apart from all this, in the back of the room was a sofa that probably served more as a bed with two mirrors and silk curtains. In the middle of it all stood a table with a red tablecloth and a crystal ball on it.

"Why are you standing there like that?” Madame Fate waved in Dipper’s direction to close the door and come closer. “Come and sit down. Oh, where was I… Ah! Do you mind the milk in the tea?” She came to a small stove and placed a metal kettle on it. 

“N-Not at all!” Dipper replied and sat down at the table. He scanned the inside of the caravan and wondered how long she had to live in it. Did she even have a family? More likely yes, because Dipper's eyes stopped at the counter where the frames with photos lay. There were several people on them. One of them was Madame Fate, although much younger, but there was also a one buff man and 3 children. They must have been her husband and kids. 

"This is Duke, my ex-husband.” Madame Fate picked up the frame and looked at the photo. 

_"Ex-husband?"_ Dipper asked. Madame Fate sadly nodded. 

"Yes. About 10 years ago, a tree crushed him when he was working in the forest. He used to be a lumberjack. Kind of a lazy ass, but I've loved him more than anyone else."

Oh… Dipper felt so ashamed for asking now. Madame Fate sure must have been uncomfortable talking about it. 

"I-I'm so sorry to hear that," he apologized, but she shook her head. 

"Hush, hush, it's fine, you don't have to apologize. It's been a long time." She took the prepared and heated up tea from the stove and poured it into cups with a dash of milk.

Dipper watched Madame Fate pour out the tea. It was quite satisfying somehow, even though it was a deeply uninteresting thing to focus upon.

“What about your children?” he asked after a few moments. She handed him a cup and he cradled it in his hands.

“Oh, they’re very fine young adults now.” Madame Fate smiled, no doubt recalling when they were young. “Each with kids of their own. They haven’t suffered the same fate as Duke and I can only be thankful for that.”

“They didn’t take on the family business?”

“My youngest plans to, but she is waiting until her own children are grown up.” Madame Fate sat down with a flourish. “The others found something that better suits them.”

From there, Dipper picked Madame Fate’s brain on the family business and what it’s like day to day. It turns out that the job had been passed down by the women in her family for several generations, though the work was loved but not very grand. A typical day is extensive travel, which has its own pros and cons, and the negotiations of a businessman.

Dipper barely noticed the hours passing by with her tales of her journeys until it was around noon and the sun was shining bright through the windows.

A natural lull fell between them at the end of one story. They sat in comfortable quiet together, thinking. Except, Dipper felt her eyes on him.

"So," Madame Fate began as she bit into one of her hand-made vanilla cookies. 

Dipper on the opposite side of the table was looking at postcards from Madame's journeys around Europe and sipping his tea. He felt comfortable in the caravan and didn't mind at all where the conversations led. It was unusual to spend time in the daytime with someone, so he was simply more than thankful to have the company. Dipper regretted having a bad opinion of her at first because of the earlier rudeness to Bill. 

In other words, Dipper was completely unassuming.

"...How long have you and the Count been dating?"

Dipper sputtered all the tea in shock at the question and began to choke. He _really_ didn't expect something like that coming from the woman's mouth. How the hell did she even come to the conclusion that he and Bill were a couple?!

_(Why was he blushing?)_

"Pardon?" Dipper finally caught his breath and was not on the verge of dying. Madame Fate couldn't help but laugh when she looked at the blushing young man. 

"Hahaha, I'm sorry, boy. I didn't expect you to be so surprised. However, from your expression, I guess there's some chemistry between you and him, isn't there?"

Dipper did not answer this question. Instead, he asked, "Why are you even interested?"

Madame Fate shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, no big reason. I just have seen the way how you two looked at each other. It kind of reminds me of how I used to look at my Duke. I do suppose you know that Count Cipher has a pretty long list of his lovers and sexual history."

Dipper’s heart dropped into his churning stomach. “L-Lovers? I thought he was single."

"Oh yes, he is, _now_. But a very long time ago, he used to be a complete Casanova and changed partners like his shoes. From what I have heard about him, he was often seen at balls with a variety of men and women."

Dipper frowned. He was now a little sad, but he understood. Bill was a handsome man, after all, so he must have found and dated someone before. It was unreasonable to feel so much _less_ than he was before now that he knew Bill had gotten around, but it wasn’t like feeling abided by logic in any way.

“But,” Madame Fate continued, “there were rumors that he did that only because of some family issues. Which seems quite reasonable since none of those relationships lasted more than a week or two. So, who knows, maybe this time you'll be a different case. Although, if I were you, I would rather stay away from him.”

“Huh?” Dipper’s eyes met hers. “Why?” 

Madame leaned closer to Dipper and peered closely at his neck. Dipper fought the urge to shrug up his shoulders, because _why_ exactly was she inspecting him like that? Being scrutinized was never fun.

She pulled away after a few moments, appearing amazed. Like she was shocked there was nothing marring the skin on his throat. As if she _expected_ something to be there. 

Madame Fate arched a brow. "Don't you know?" 

“Um… Know what?”

“What is happening at this castle, of course! Why else do you think I refused to sleep in there?”

“Well…” Okay, yeah, she _must_ have knocked a few screws loose. “I've heard some rumours about the Cipher family and the castle, but nothing of it seems to be true.”

Madame Fate chuckled. It was quite amusing to hear that. “So you haven't noticed _anything_ strange at all?”

Should he? 

Dipper sipped from his cup and only one recent thing came to his mind: that mysterious death of the maid. He wasn’t sure if he should mention it to Madame Fate, but since she seemed to know something he doesn’t, it wouldn’t hurt, would it? Dipper would do anything for answers.

“Um… actually, there is one thing,” Dipper slowly began. “Not a long time ago, a maid who worked here died during her sleep. Bill said it was because of the bats, but I feel there's something else behind it. Because… Well, I've seen his servant wandering suspiciously through the castle the night before she died. I didn't want to make a bad conclusion but now when I think about it, it is kinda odd and strange. Like something is telling me she didnt die because of just some bite.” 

"Oh, of course it wasn't due to the bat bite.” Madame Fate scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “After all, there are almost no bats living in this area!” She laughed, but suddenly fell silent as she looked at Dipper's confused face. She realized she had said more than she was supposed to.

What the absolute hell? Then why were there so many crosses everywhere? What about the illnesses that plagued the village way back when?

"What do you mean by that? Are you saying the bat didn't do it? Then what, or who?” Dipper asked-- no, more like demanded.

Madame Fate scratched the back of her neck. She was in a very awkward situation now. She knew that if anyone from the castle heard her, she would be in trouble. _Big_ trouble.

Dipper watched as her hands began to shake on her lap. She hesitated, not knowing whether to leave his question unanswered or to take the risk. She knew that if she said anything else, it might cost her the most precious thing she had-- her life, but she wanted to help the boy so much. Protect him from something he didn't know about. She didn't know why, perhaps because the brunette reminded her of her son with his curious brown eyes.

Madame Fate had to make a decision, and quickly.

"Wait a second," she said, getting up from her chair and quietly walking towards the window. She leaned out and looked both ways. She did the same out the door. When she made sure no one was around, she locked the door, closed the windows, and drew the curtains. It was better to be cautious than regret it later.

The more she dawdled and snuck around, the icier Dipper’s blood became. He had second thoughts about talking to her or coming to this caravan-- he had second thoughts of coming to the castle too. 

"Okay, I'll tell you." Madame Fate pulled a book from the bookshelf. It was covered in dust and cobwebs, as if you hadn't touched it in years. However, Dipper could still read the inscription on the back through the debris. 

It was: Enciclopedie monstru terifiantă, which in Romanian meant "Terrifying monster encyclopedia.” Quite a bizarre and dramatic title for a book, but fearsome. Madame Fate stared at it for a moment, then handed it to Dipper.

"I can't tell you exactly what's going on here. You have to figure it out for yourself, but I can say something for sure. Things don't happen in this castle by accident or ‘just like that.’” Madame Fate’s lips pressed into a grim, thin line. “It's all the work of a _monster_ that lives here. One of those written about in this book. Don't ask me which-- again, I can't tell you that. Just saying all of this puts me at the risk of not living to see tomorrow morning."

Dipper held the book at an arm's length away as if it would bite him. "W-What? Why?!"

What was she talking about? There was no one who was interested in others enough at this castle to hurt her, let alone over something said _privately_ and _alone_ in her caravan.

"Like I said,” Madame Fate sniffed impatiently, “I can't tell you. Remember. If you want to know the truth, you will find it in this book.” She held up a finger. “But I warn you! You cannot show it to the Count or anyone else in the castle. Am I clear? Only then will you finally understand what is happening here. And one more thing."

She took her rosary from her neck and hung it around Dipper's. The silver cross carried an emotional weight that pressed on his shoulders. 

"Here. Wear it and _never_ take it off. It may seem crazy to you, but it will protect you. Just keep it under your clothes and don't take it off -- not even during the bath and _especially not_ during sleep. You got it?"

Dipper, terrified of everything the woman had said, nodded. He desperately wanted her to laugh and say it was just a joke, but her expression said she wasn't kidding. She was dead serious, whether she was talking about a monster or the fact that she might die soon. Something told him that what she was saying was true. That meant a monster really lived somewhere here and both he and Bill were risking their lives. 

But... It could also have been a lie, right? Madame Fate could have left the castle healthy and unharmed, no one else would have died, and Dipper could return after three months of his investigation with what he had found so far.

He needed time alone to think. His entire world had just been turned upside down and he feared he’d short circuit if any more was loaded onto him.

“I understand.” Dipper stood, making it known he needed to leave.

Madame Fate stood with him and put her hands on his shoulders. Her eyes bore into his own. “I trust you’ll make good decisions. You have all the wisdom you need. May the Lord keep you safe.” _And remember_.

Dipper was unsteady leaving the caravan and heading back into the castle. His footsteps were either too light or heavy, unbalanced, as if the information had a physical weight and not a mental one.

Madame Fate watched him leave with a hand over her heart.

“God, help this boy…”

She failed to notice someone’s movement from beneath the caravan.

The next morning, Dipper nearly expelled all the breakfast in his stomach.

The new daytime maid, Sarah, who had just arrived at the castle that morning, shared terrible news with Dipper and Keyhole. Police on her journey to the castle were investigating a case of "a gypsy caravan that fell into an abyss during her ride. The woman died on the spot." 

It was said to be an accident. The woman was traveling in the dark, and most likely the wolves frightened her horse. The horse panicked and the woman completely lost control of her driving. That's what the police said. 

Dipper knew that wasn't true. As Madame Fate had predicted, she really didn't live to see the sunrise, which meant only one thing. 

Dipper had to look in that book as soon as possible…


	5. Chapter 5

Dipper pondered all day what Madame Fate had told him. 

_ “It’s all the work of a monster that lives here.” _

His heart pounded with fear with every run of that sentence through his mind and he had only one thought in his head afterwards: to look at the gypsy’s book. As soon as he heard the frightening news of Madame Fate’s death, he wanted to run to his room and flip through the pages to find what had murdered her.  _ Who _ had murdered her, more like.

Unfortunately, he could barely get to his room. Sarah, the new maid, needed someone to give a tour around the castle. He usually took this to Keyhole, but an injury left him entrusting this task to Dipper. Early that morning when he was washing the floor, Keyhole had slipped on the soap and twisted his ankle.

Dipper knew very well that it was difficult to walk with such an injury, especially if he had to go up and down all those stairs. He had twisted his ankle several times and knew how much pain he felt when he had to go to work, where his office was on the 6th floor and they did not have an elevator. So he agreed to take Sarah on a tour through the castle.

Sarah was cute, Dipper had to admit. She was small and thin with blond wavy curls tied in a short ponytail. The thousands of freckles decorating her button nose and cheeks had a youthful affect, despite her already being young in the first place. They, despite her rather dull, black maid uniform, added to her cuteness. Dipper found himself smiling whenever she did, as if she was contagious. 

She reminded Dipper very much of Mabel. She was so full of energy that she could power hundreds of nuclear plants. Throughout the tour, Sarah was bursting with questions, pointing at things, and talking to Dipper like the castle was the most splendid thing in the world. However, he only half-watched her, thinking with his rosary on the neck about the secrets of the castle. He wanted him to be able to return to his room as soon as possible.

In the end, the tour took longer than Dipper originally wanted. Sarah had so many questions that the more he explained, the more she asked. She seemed most interested in why Dipper was at the castle, if (as she initially thought) he didn't live there permanently. Dipper had to explain to her everything about his work and the article he wanted to write, but as expected, Sarah just became more curious.

If Pyronica, who had already risen because it was after sunset, hadn't come to the kitchen, Dipper would have had to talk to Sarah until midnight. He couldn't blame her, though. He himself remembered how fascinated he was with this castle when he first came here. 

Dipper had been so afraid of everything in the castle at first. How ironic it was that he had a reason to be terrified all along.

He couldn’t stall this anymore. He needed to find that book and get to the bottom of this mystery as soon as possible before anyone else died.

With Pyronica there in the kitchen, Dipper eagerly dumped all of Sarah onto her hands. “I’m sorry, Sarah, but I have to go,” he blurted and booked it up the stairs to his room. He would make it up to her later, but he just  _ couldn’t _ stall and prattle useless things about the very place that was at the center of so many tragedies.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, Dipper looked at the clock. It was eight o'clock in the evening, one hour until it was time to have dinner with Bill. Dipper couldn't wait to see him again, especially because of the kiss on the forehead he got from the man.

It  _ had _ to have meant something. First a (quite passionate) kiss on the lips, then Bill whispering sweet words and giving him one of his head? These just don’t ‘happen’ for no reason.

The little bit of hope made Dipper smile.

In a snap of realization, Dipper shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. There was no time for such trivial things! He was in charge of something much more important. Dipper had to find out the truth about what was going on in this place. The monster Madame Fate had described could kill someone  _ again _ and he couldn't handle seeing any more dead. 

The thought of that terrifying creature killing Sarah, him, or Bill... His stomach clenched in fear at the thought. He had to reveal the truth, for the good of all.

Dipper looked at the bookshelf. There were many books on the shelves, most of them borrowed from the castle library. Some of them were detective novels, some were historical ones, some were textbooks. Nothing suspicious at first glance. However, when Dipper pushed the books aside, behind them at the very back of the bookshelf stood the book he wanted so much to see now: “Terrifying Monster Encyclopedia.”

Dipper feared that if he left it hidden under the bed, Pyronica might find it while cleaning his room. 

_ No one must know you have the book. _

Dipper could hear the warning in Madame Fate’s voice. Thinking about her made his heart twinge.

He walked over to the bed with the book in his hands and sat. The bed creaked a little as Dipper set his weight on it, but it was nothing he was not used to during his time living there. 

He looked closely at the book. It was so dusty and dirty that for an allergy sufferer, just holding it would mean they would get a heavy cough. He took a deep breath and blew all the dust out of there. Finally, he could see the unusual and interesting cover.

There was a forward-facing dragon-like figure embossed on the dark, wrinkled leather cover with the title below in a clear rectangular shape. Four thick bands on the spine appeared to hold the yellowing pages together like clamps.

Dipper opened the book on the random page in amazement. Most of the text was in Latin, which Dipper liked very much because he had a dictionary with him that Ford had sent him. If it was in Romanian, he sure would have struggled with reading that.

It must have been a very old book because everything in it was written by hand in red ink. The illustrations were also more interesting than the contents of the book.

These were sketches of monsters, creatures Dipper had only heard about in fairytale books from his childhood. Fairies, werewolves, dragons, goblins, mermaids - all were described in detail there. But there were creatures he had never heard of, such as Gobblewonkers, Pit Fiends or Beasthorns. Some of the creatures looked quite harmless, some looked very strange, and some looked  _ terrifying.  _ Dipper shivered with goosebumps.

Below each image was a description of the creature, where it occurred most often, their characteristics, what protected man against them, and so on. Dipper was incredibly impressed and turned the yellowed pages with amazement while the fire crackled pleasantly in the fireplace. 

Suddenly, however, he stopped on one page.

On one page, Dipper found a description of the creature that particularly caught his eye. He quietly read the text in italics next to its image:

_ "These undead creatures of the night are mainly found in Europe, but it has already been proven that they can be found on other continents of the world as well. They look like humans in appearance and behavior, but they have tell-tale characteristics that distinguish them from mankind. They have pale, almost white skin; long fangs, and blood-red eyes (subject to color change). They are unable to live in the sun because as soon as they get outside during the daytime, they turn to ashes. They, therefore, spend their daytime sleeping, especially in coffins. Whether this is a fad or a true necessity is unknown. They fear crosses and religious objects of all kinds. They are also severely allergic to garlic and find the scent repugnant, however, this form of protection is weaker than those aforementioned. These are not very dangerous beings  _ _ unless _ _ they are hungry or enraged. The last and the most important fact: their bodies cannot use human food to satisfy their hunger, or rather  _ _ thirst _ _. The only way to do so is by drinking human blood…" _

Dipper's hands shook, barely able to hold the book. Bile rose in his throat. He read the label twice, three times. Dipper scoured the page for anything that disproved what he was thinking, for he desperately didn't want to believe it. 

Of all the people, he knew only one person who directly said he couldn't stand garlic. One person that incidents have all lined up for. Bill.

Dipper settled his eyes one last time on the creature’s name in disbelief. 

Oh God, oh dear God!  _ It all made sense. _ How stupid he was for never suspecting this earlier, the signs were  _ all there _ right in front of him. His finger stopped over the big red word, and Dipper, barely able to speak, whispered, "Bill... is a vampire?"

Behind him, someone laughed.

"Oh, so she really gave you the book."

Dipper's blood in his veins froze at that moment. He turned slowly to see Bill standing by the fire, a smirk on his face. Bill had his hands in his pockets in such a casual position, contrasting from the gravity of the situation.

"And I thought she could keep our secrets better than her mother. Heh.. I guess I was wrong."

"Y-You-- You're a vampire!" was the only thing that came out of Dipper's throat. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to flee.

Bill laughed as if it was some kind of a normal conversation. "Yes, my dear Pinetree, you’ve caught me. I'm a vampire. It is quite surprising you didn't notice it before. You’re a smart one but, hm. This couldn’t have been your greatest work." He came closer.

How the hell could Dipper have not noticed that before? His body trembled more and more with each step Bill took to him. There was nothing but a visceral fear of dying, of being sucked dry, or otherwise harmed within Dipper.

"Well, now," Bill held out his hand to Dipper. "Give me the book."

"No," Dipper replied. His grip tightened, although shaking.

Bill’s left eye twitched. His teeth grit together. "Give me the book,  _ Pinetree.” _

“No,” Dipper repeated. There was no way he was letting Bill get his hands on this book. Madame Fate  _ died _ for it and Dipper would too if he had to.

Bill sighed.  _ As stubborn as ever. _ He wanted this to go the easy way, but apparently Dipper was forcing his hand. With a quick movement, he grabbed the book in Dipper's hand and yanked it out of his grasp with a superhuman grip. Dipper couldn't even stand up and react when the Count threw the encyclopedia into the flames. It burnt to a pile of dust before their very eyes.

Betrayal and strife suffocated Dipper. He didn't understand anything anymore! The book was something Madame Fate had given him and Bill had it turned to ashes! A dead woman’s only wish down the drain, an entire relationship between Dipper and Bill ruined, trust shattered. 

“There we go.” Bill clapped his hands as if knocking dirt off of them. “Further evidence is successfully destroyed. These books are so dangerous to us,  _ my kind. _ Who knows who would come after us if they knew where we live."

Bill turned to Dipper again and said with a smile, as if none of that happened, "Well, I guess you have some questions for me. What if we talked about it here? Dinner can wait.” 

The smile he wore left Dipper a cold sheen on his skin. Bill was drinking blood from people,  _ killing  _ them, and now he's smiling at him like that, waiting for Dipper to have a cup of tea with him and talk about it?! Was he crazy?! 

“Stay away from me, you-- you-- bloodsucking monster!” Dipper shouted, slowly crawling back on the bed. He needed to find a way to run away from there. This wasn't Bill he knew and loved. It was  _ a monster _ .

“Hey, that's a kinda touchy thing to call me.” Bill pouted and folded his hands as he continued to get closer to Dipper. “I mean, yes, I drink blood, but that's because I have to be fed  _ somehow.” _

Dipper crawled to the edge of the sheets as far as he could go until he hit the edge of the bed. The edge came all too quick and he found Bill's face only inches away from his. If Dipper wasn't scared and didn't know what Bill really was, he sure would have blushed or even kissed him.

Bill hadn’t missed how close they were. Dipper hadn’t missed how  _ cocky _ Bill became.

A grin slowly stretched across Bill’s face, glancing between Dipper’s eyes and his lips. Dipper’s heart leapt into his throat and so did his breath when he caught sight of the two pointed fangs nestled at Bill’s gums, two crimson hungry eyes bearing into his own.

This was not the Bill he knew. Not the one he recognized.

Bill drew his body closer. Dipper’s eyes widened and he inched back, but no matter what, Bill remained just as near. He had to get away, had to run, had to keep this predator  _ away, _ but he couldn’t force himself to run. He couldn’t do  _ anything. _

The vampire  _ stretched _ over Dipper’s body until Dipper’s back hit the bed, sealing his fate.

“Ohhh, now isn’t this interesting?” Bill chuckled. He planted his arms on either side of Dipper, leaving no room to escape. “I can hear that little heart of yours racing...” He dropped his head to Dipper’s neck and nuzzled in.

Dipper squeaked. He was so tiny, helpless, and small now compared to Bill looming over him. If Bill had looked hungry before, he absolutely was now with his nose to Dipper’s jugular.

“I can hear your blood  _ rushing _ through your veins too.” Dipper jolted as Bill suddenly whispered that straight in his ear. His heavy breath was hot on his neck. Suddenly, the hips on his own became more than just a hindrance to escape. “I do not think you understand how…” The vampire above him shuddered. “ _ Delicious _ you are, my dear. You have the sweetest blood I’ve ever tasted.”

It was fucking  _ obscene _ how Bill borderline groaned those words in Dipper’s ear. It was  _ obscene _ how much blood rushed up to his cheeks and then south too. Their hips were pressed together, it was only a matter of time before Bill noticed.

“And I have fantasized every night since then…” Bill’s hand slipped down and rested on Dipper’s hip. It played with the hem of his shirt. “About taking more. I ache in hunger for you, Pinetree.” His cold fingers slipped up Dipper’s shirt to push it up and he could do nothing about it. “Let me have some m--”

Bill suddenly screamed in agony and threw himself away from the human. He went ass first onto the floor while gripping onto his hand. On his palm was the perfect sizzling, red mark of a cross. He had grabbed onto the rosary full on without even realizing it until it was too late.

That was Dipper's chance. He didn't hesitate for a second. His legs bolted, running out of the room. It was when he reached the end of the hall when he heard a terrible, monstrous roar. 

“P̵͙͎̳̉ͅį̶̛̗̣̃̀͝n̸̲̾̆e̷̝̾͝t̶͔̆̒ŗ̵̡̯̅͜͝ȩ̵͎̣̩̍̆ė̸̝̳̹̇ē̵̞͒̓!̶̰͉̰͋͝!̶̯͉̘̿̕!̷̗̜͘̕͠”

Run! Run, run,  _ run! _ There was not one thought in Dipper’s mind remaining that wasn’t about escaping or being caught. His heart beat itself out of his chest, legs sprinting with minds of their own. Bill would have absolutely no trouble trying to find him if he hid.  _ Shit, _ he’d have no trouble. Dipper was not getting out of here alive.

Dipper clutched the rosary tight in his grip, lungs heaving for breath.  _ "Oh my God! Please help me, please! Mother Maria, save me! _ ” he prayed, running as fast as he could up the stairs two at a time. He needed to get out of the castle. He needed to get away from the  _ beast _ on his heels as fast as possible.

The corridors whizzed by as he sprinted toward the main door. With each step he took, he heard Bill come closer and closer.

His legs ached, but Dipper had to endure. He was already on the balcony of the second floor. All he had to do was go down the stairs. Freedom was  _ right there, _ he was  _ so close-- _

Dipper’s toe caught on the carpet and he stumbled, the rosary he held so tightly falling a few feet away. There was no time to retrieve it with the blood hungry monster a few meters away. 

He caught a glimpse of those crimson eyes. There was nothing human in them. All that remained was a starving animal, one ready to rip him apart.

_ Fuck the rosary. _ Dipper wobbled on each second step he took rushing down the stairs, nearly tripping every time.

As soon as his foot came down on the last step, Bill pounced on him like some sort of a predator. Their bodies tumbled down the last step and Dipper swore he felt something crack.

Bill pressed Dipper's body against the cold marble floor and held Dipper’s wrists in a crushing grip above his head. Dipper’s throat tightened in horror. He screamed and thrashed his legs, attempted to yank his arms out of Bill’s grip, even tried to bash his head against the other’s.

Nothing worked. Bill snarled and squeezed his hand, a leg coming down to still Dipper. His bloody eyes stared into Dipper’s and all that there was left in the human’s mind was fear. His life flashing before his eyes, tainted in horror and dripping with regret.

This was it. This was the day he was going to die. Dipper never should have come here, never should have stuck his nose in places it didn’t belong. Count Cipher had been an offer too good to be true and now Dipper cursed his own name and stupidity, wishing he’d had more sense before.

Bill stuck his nose into Dipper’s neck and  _ sniffed it. _

Dipper’s heart stopped. “B-Bill?” he stammered, wheezing.

The begging words to stop never left Dipper’s tongue. A hot tongue licked at his pulse point in a long stroke. Dipper gasped, muscles tensing. This was… so much hotter than it should have been. He was about to  _ die _ and yet this turned him on. 

Bill’s leg laid between Dipper’s thighs, softly brushing the rising erection in Dipper's pants.

_ Dipper was so fucked up. _

Bill's breath became heavier and heavier with each lick of Dipper's throat. He was more animal than ever, lapping desperately at one spot as if he were preparing it for something. Building up to something. Dipper, a little dazed by the hot sensation in his pants, trembled with both fear and pleasure (though he didn't want to admit it).

Bill's sharp fangs suddenly sank down into his soft flesh. A scream ripped from Dipper’s throat. The pain was  _ blinding, _ like there were two thick needles shoved into the crook of his neck and shoulder, and Dipper wanted nothing than to die at that very moment.

Tears welled up in his eyes and he squeezed them shut. Pain arched through his body with every suckling pull Bill took from him. Dipper couldn’t even  _ attempt _ to push Bill away because he felt so much weaker with every pull that he couldn't even raise his hands. He didn’t even  _ notice _ Bill had let his wrists go.

Dipper's vision became blurred. Black dots edged his vision and gradually swallowed it up. He could barely perceive the world around him. All he could feel at that point was his hot blood disappearing into the blond's lips, the vague sensation of being used like a straw, and the pain. 

The dizziness swept Dipper off his feet. His surroundings sank into darkness, into which Dipper slowly fell. The last thing he registered was that someone was shaking him and calling his name. 

Then everything disappeared in the endless nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

Dipper opened his eyes and gasped for air.

He was neither in heaven nor in hell. Why was he expecting to be there? His brain felt sluggish, the memories of before he fell asleep blurred and incomprehensible. What Dipper  _ could _ recall was quite a fucked up nightmare. Thank god that never happened.

Dipper looked at his surroundings. The light, as minimal as it was, still made his head pound. He was... in his castle bedroom? He looked down at himself and found that he was in his pajamas, nestled into the blankets. 

_ “Oh, thank God, it was just a nightmare," _ he thought, sighing in relief.

But he wondered how he had actually ended up in his sleeping clothes. Actually, Dipper wondered about the circumstances of how he fell asleep at all in the first place. The last thing he could remember was reading a book about those monsters in bed, still dressed in his casual clothes. 

Dipper must have just changed while he was half asleep. It made sense.

As he looked down at his night clothes, he remembered a flash of Bill’s grim features from the nightmare. How the man looked at him with those terrible bloody eyes, with blood running down his lips… Dipper’s stomach churned.

He could only be glad that it was just a dream. A much too realistic dream, but honestly, what nightmare doesn't feel real when you experience it, right? Dipper didn’t know if he could handle his best friend being so horrible.

Oh, right! Dipper was supposed to go to dinner with Bill! He glanced quickly at the clock. Damn! It was already 11 o'clock at night, it was too late. Bill probably has already eaten and now he was doing some stuff in his office. Dipper was quite sad about it because he liked to have dinner with Bill.

However, as he thought about the food, he smelled something delicious. What the? What was that nice and tasty smell? He looked around with a loud growl in his stomach and his eyes stopped at the bedside table. 

On it lay a silver tray full of food and drink: a bowl of lamb curry, a few fluffy pancakes topped with syrup, a few oranges, and even a glass full of apple juice. However, Dipper's attention was not focused on the food, but on the vase in which stood one large blooming blue rose.

There was only one person who was thoughtful enough and it was his Count. Oh, how romantic. Dipper’s heart warmed up in happiness, a little part of him falling even harder for Bill. See? This was  _ his _ Bill, not that monster from his nightmare.

Dipper reached out a hand to pick up the rose, but paused when he noticed something else on the tray. It was a box of bandages and disinfectant. Dipper stared at them for several minutes. Why did Bill give him a first aid kit? After all, he was never injured since the accident with the blade and he--

Dipper opened his eyes wide in shock and quickly reached for his neck. He froze in place when he felt it. A bandage wrapped around his throat.

Oh god. Oh dear god, that--

Dipper felt sick. His head pounded worse, a deep setting ache behind his eyes, his neck stung, and the lead rock in his stomach returned.

Everything from his nightmare flashed before him and slotted into place with his reality.

Dipper didn't want to believe it. Those fangs, pain, running for his life… it could not be real. He _ didn't want _ it to be real. He so desperately wished it was just a nightmare, that his Bill was not the one he feared. However, the bandages, pain in the neck, and slight feeling of dizziness were too vivid to be imaginary. His limbs weighed heavy, weak and not wanting to move. 

The door to his bedroom opened. The one Dipper was so afraid to see came into the room: Bill.

"Hey, how are you feeling today?" Bill’s voice held more fatigue and melancholy than life, thin and defeated sounding.

Dipper’s first instinct was to scream, but when he got a good look at Bill, he was speechless. What was standing there was not the same bloodthirsty monster that had attacked him, but also not the Bill he knew. 

The Count looked like shit. A far cry from his usual elegant, graceful appearance. His skin wasn’t just pale, but also greying. His hair was unkempt and loose, as if he’d been running his hands through it over and over again in worry. His clothing hung off of his thin body, wrinkled and untucked with no buttons properly fastened. His coat was crooked and the cravat along his neck was undone. A bandage was fastened around his palm.

Bill never would have stepped out of his room (coffin?) appearing so disheveled. Even the way he held himself was lacking. It was not fit for a Count. The fact that he did stopped Dipper in his mental tracks.

If his clothing didn’t have anything to say about his state… It was his visage. He looked pained and miserable. The large dark circles that sat under his exhausted, bloodshot eyes said he certainly hadn't slept in a long time-- wait.

Had Bill been… crying?

"Y-You!" Dipper stammered, trying to get out of bed. The dizziness hit him full force once his feet touched the ground and he almost toppled. 

"Wait! You mustn’t get up so suddenly!” Bill jumped forward to help him, arms outstretched in an offered hold. Dipper pushed away from the impulse. 

"Don't you dare touch me, you monster!" he shrieked.

Dipper didn't want the creature to touch him with his dirty hands. Who knew how many people those hands had already killed! Dipper backed away as far away from Bill as possible. He knew he was completely defenseless now. The rosary, given to him by Madame Fate, had already been lost and he could not get out of bed himself, let alone try to escape again.

"Pinetree, please listen to me. I-- I know I hurt you, but please let me explain it all!” Bill tried to calm Dipper in a calm voice, but didn’t help. If at all, the calm made Dipper even more angry. There was  _ nothing _ to be calm about! Nothing about this was normal!

"Listen to you? Why? Why the fuck should I listen to you?!” Dipper spat. His words sizzled like acid. “You almost  _ killed  _ me. Just like you killed Mrs. Fate, Lucy, and probably the other maids who worked here! Why haven't you killed me yet?! Did you want to do it now?!” His voice had steadily risen into a shriek, cheeks red in anger.

"No! Please, Pinetree, calm down,” Bill begged, hands out in surrender. “You're upset, I know. But it’s one big misunderstanding. Just let me explain!”

"No!” Dipper wasn’t going to let himself be persuaded, used, and killed by this beast. If Bill had lost control and hurt him once, he’d do it again. “Stay  _ the fuck _ away from me. I don't want to hear you! Why didn't you kill me? Why? Why--"

“ _ Please-- _ ”

“Was this your whole plan?” Dipper waved his hands up in a mocking gesture. “‘ _ Oh, I’m gonna offer this new blood sack a stay with absolutely no hassle just so I can eat them’?! _ I should have known you were bad the second I laid eyes on that letter!”

“It wasn’t like tha--”

“I won’t be some goddamn prey for y--”

"MASON!"

Dipper jumped in fright. Bill had never yelled at him before. He didn’t like how he sounded angry.

Plus, no one ever called him by his real name. No one. And yet, Bill shouted in the most desperate and sad voice he had ever heard.

"P-Please, Mason. Listen to me." Silently, almost in a whisper, the Count begged, looking into his eyes. There was no doubt that the golden eyes that reflected Dipper's face showed how sincere Bill was. Conversely, Dipper's hazel eyes reflected a man he had once known.

So the brunette sat in the lotus position and sighed heavily. "Alright then,” he murmured. “I'm listening.”

A small pinch of joy appeared in Bill's expression. He took a chair from the table and pushed it toward the bed, but also far enough away to be a meter away between him and Dipper. Bill was silent for a moment, looking at his hands in his lap, wondering how or what to say.

Once Bill got his thoughts in order, he explained.

"Pinetree, what happened,  _ what I did to you _ , I want to apologize so much for that. I know you won't accept this apology, but I wanted to tell you that. I-- I didn't mean to do it. I would  _ never  _ hurt you like that. I mean, yes, I'm a vampire and I need blood to live, but I would never bite you without your permission! But I held back and starved so much for so long that I couldn't hold back in combination with the anger. I couldn't suppress the monster in me that was thirsty."

Dipper seethed up until the word ‘starved.’ Despite how cliché the situation sounded, that pricked his ears up in alarm and brought him down to just a simmer with the gravity of the information.

“Huh? Starve, hold back? What do you mean?” Dipper looked at Bill. Bill gripped the fabric of his pants tighter, looking truly miserable. Shame filled his features.

"Well, it's hard to explain, but simply put, I didn't mean to bite you. Not you… For multiple reasons.” Bill looked at Dipper with one eye, and the boy felt a slight warmth in his heart. 

Dipper didn't understand why he felt this way. Bill had just bitten him the night before and was expecting everything to be all said and done after a quick apology. He hated Bill  _ so much _ now and was afraid of him, but inside his mind he wanted to believe the Count and his words.

The part of him that still hung onto the Bill he used to know wanted to believe him. The duality twinged his heart strings.

"I come from a rich aristocratic family.” Bill sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He avoided looking Dipper in the eyes. “And we've all been pureblood vampires since birth. Which has an effect on our genes and diet in a sort of way. We can eat any human food, but it will never fill our hunger, or rather, ‘thirst.’ Not to mention I was a little bit ‘picky’ since I grew up drinking fresh-served blood-- even though I've never liked the idea that blood actually belonged to someone.”

"Then why don't you drink some plasma packs? The kind they have in the hospital or in the blood banks. You have access to them since you own several such institutes."

"That's exactly what sets me, a pureblood, from a 'transformed' vampire, Pinetree. Both Pyronica and Eightball have their own storage room with blood packs prepared, and that is enough for them. I don’t get that luxury. My tongue does not perceive such cold non-fresh blood as food. With so many years avoiding it, my body can't adjust to drinking something worse again."

Wait...Pyronica and Eightball were vampires too?! Oh dear lord god, Dipper was in a fucking castle of things that wanted to eat him.

"So that's why you killed all those maids?! Because you were  _ hungry _ ?!” Dipper so badly wanted to grip Bill’s collar and throttle him. However, when he tried to get up, he felt faint again and preferred to sit back. Really, how much blood did Bill take from him? It felt like squeezing an orange into a juice. Ugh, just the thought of food made his stomach growl loud.

Bill looked at him in surprise, then gave Dipper a small amused, if not weak, smile. "I see you're hungry. It's not quite surprising since you have slept for nearly 2 days. So, go on, eat something.” He gestured to the silver tray, but Dipper shook his head.

He didn't want him to follow what the man said. Unlike Bill, Dipper  _ was able to  _ suppress his hunger. But that brought Dipper's mind back to his question. "You didn't answer my question, Bill. Why did you kill them?”

Dipper's hands shook with fear as he spoke of death. He had never been so scared in his life as he was in this situation. Visible fear was overall a weakness, so he tried to not show it, but the wringing of his hands and little trembles gave him away. He didn't even know if Bill was lying to him or telling the truth. Dipper didn't know if Bill wanted to hurt him again, use any tricks on him, or if he really tried to apologize to Dipper. Dipper didn't know  _ anything! _

"I didn't kill them, Pinetree. All the maids who worked here, yeah sure I bit all of them, I admit. But I always knew when it was time to stop. To not put their life in danger. And when they were actually unable to work, I sent them back to their homes. None of them ever suspected that I would ever bite them, because I only drank their blood in their sleep. Everyone thought those bite were caused by a ‘bat.’. So no, I didn't kill anyone. Not really..."

"Don't lie to me." Dipper crossed his arms. "You killed Lucy. The maid who used to work here weeks ago!”

Bill looked at him with a hurt look. It was one of those topics he never wanted to talk about. But he knew that if he ever wanted Dipper to look him in the eye again, he had to tell him the whole truth and hope to find understanding.

"About her." Bill bit his lips and spoke slowly, feeling really uncomfortable about this. “The time you cut yourself, I tasted your blood for the first time, not quite intentionally. And it was so delicious that it, in combination with a 3-week long starvation, woke up a monster in me. The same _thirsty monster that_ attacked you. I tried to hold back, but soon my body took control of me. And when I saw Lucy walking around my office, I couldn't control it anymore. W-When I returned to my senses, I saw her in front of me, being drained dry… I didn't know what to do, so I immediately ordered Keyhole to call the Undertaker. I gave the man money and asked him to give the girl a dignified funeral. That was all I could do for her.”

Dipper wanted to argue that he had another option, not to attack the poor girl at all, but in the end he let it be. He wanted to know the answers to his questions now. "What about Madame Fate? You killed her, not with a bite incident, but  _ intentionally. _ Why? What has she ever done to you?” he asked, looking at the fireplace. He could still see Bill burning the book in the fire, in front of his eyes. Dipper didn’t know if he could ever forget the image. "You know she had a family, don't you? How…  _ Why  _ did you do it?”

Bill didn't answer the question, instead pulling a roll of paper tied with a red ribbon from his jacket pocket and giving it to Dipper. 

"What is it?" Dipper asked, but his question was answered when he unrolled it. It was a contract. A very old one, based on the scrawled ink and the fact that, like Madame Fate's book, it was written in Latin. It also had a red wax seal on the lower right edge depicting the coat of arms of the Cipher family-- a triangle with an eye. It was therefore a valid document if this treaty was ever created in the Middle Ages. 

Dipper began to read aloud the text and the conditions attached to the contract:

_ "13th of December 1180 AD _

_ Bucharest, Romania _

_ This confidentiality agreement for the following secrets applies between the Cipher family (the contract intermediaries) and the Fate family (the silents). Anyone who breaches the contract at any point in the terms and conditions after signing will be subject to the penalty mentioned at the end of the contract. This agreement also applies to future generations. If the descendant of the person who signed the contract decides to continue cooperating with the person from the other family, he is obliged, like their parents, to sign the contract and maintain confidentiality on topics related to the contract. It is strictly forbidden to mention or show the contract to third party persons, whether they are relatives or not. An exception is made for those who give the person who signed the contract a clear consent that they want to continue the family business and sign the contract. _

_ 1) The Fate family is absolutely forbidden to mention or imply that the Cipher family comes from a vampire bloodline and may not write or record this fact anywhere and in any way. _

_ 2) The Cipher family is prohibited from seriously harming or killing in any way a person from the Fate family who has signed the contract and has not violated any of the conditions set out in the contract. There is an explicit ban on drinking blood or turning a member of the Fate family. _

_ 3) A person from the Fate family may carry protective items (such as a rosary, cross, holy water or garlic) on the land of the Cipher family. However, they are obliged to show or place these objects in a place where a member of the Cipher family can see them from a safe distance. It is strictly forbidden to have any of the objects under clothing, in pockets or in places where they cannot be seen. Before visiting the land of the Cipher family, a person from the Fate family is also obliged not to eat garlic for 4 hours before entering the land. _

_ 4) If there are also persons of vampire genes on the land of a member of the Cipher family, this person is obliged to prohibit other vampires from any attempt to bite or injure a person from the Fate family. Therefore, the same conditions apply to them as to a member of the Cipher family under this agreement. _

_ 5) If a transaction is made between a person from the Fate family (trader) and a person from the Cipher family (buyer), then a member of the Cipher family is obliged to pay the full amount of the price of the item they bought as a buyer and paid a fee of 25% of the total price. This fee applies to the services that the Fate family performs with the Cipher family and as compensation for a complicated trip to the estate. _

_ If any of these conditions are violated, the person will be punished accordingly. The person signing this contract therefore gives ABSOLUTE CONSENT to the given penalty depending on the breach of the agreement and will not try in any way to avoid it: _

_ 1) If the person in breach of the contract is a member of the Cipher family, then the person from the Fate family is allowed to use protective objects on the vampire or pour holy water on them; triple compensation for damages and permission to share the secrets of the Cipher family to their own family and friends. _

_ 2) If the person in breach of the contract is a member of the Fate family, they give their clear consent to be killed for secrecy. Alternatives can be serious injuries causing the impossibility of communication (such as cutting out the tongue, hands, serious brain injuries or putting a person in a critical health condition). _

_ SIGNED BY:....” _

Below this text was a list of names and signatures, all signed with (already) dry dark-brown blood. And the last name on this list was Madame Fate.

He stared at the piece of paper and didn't want to believe his eyes.

Madame Fate knew  _ clearly  _ that she would die if she told the truth, making her children orphans. Still, she gave Dipper the book and told him the truth. Why did she do that? Dipper barely knew her for a day. Yes, he was immensely grateful to her for that, but at the same time he had so many questions about it that he would never find the answer to.

"And there was  _ no other way _ than to kill her?" he asked Bill. The blonde shook his head. 

"Unfortunately, no. It was clearly written in the contract and she knew the terms. If I didn't do that, it would be done by someone else from my family once they found out. She could only be glad that my servants had ended her life with a quick death. I'm an  _ undead being _ , but sure death is better in this case than spending the rest of your life in pain with the alternative, don't you think?”

"But that doesn't change the fact that she didn't have to die!" Dipper snapped. He just couldn’t accept this,  _ couldn’t _ just blindly follow an ancient, unbalanced, stagnant document when an innocent woman’s life was just unfairly taken away. “Just look at this contract! Don't you think that the penalties for breaking the contract are quite unbalanced here between your family and hers?! Human death versus the use of any protective object!? What's the point of something like that? A cross or garlic can't really  _ hurt  _ or  _ kill  _ you!”

"That's not true, Pinetree." Bill raised his voice as he got up from the chair. "You have no idea what those terrible objects can do to us vampires.” The blonde stopped and looked at his palm, the bandage wrapped around it, and clenched his fist. “...Although you probably know that since you set that  _ trap  _ for me," he then muttered under his breath.

Dipper’s teeth clenched. "What?! What are you talking about? I didn’t set  _ shit _ up for you.”

"Oh, reeeeally?” Bill’s chuckle was bitter. “So then tell me why do you think I have THIS?”

Bill carefully unwrapped the bandage on his palm and showed it to Dipper. Dipper gasped. He had never seen anything so terrible in his life before. 

The Count's palm was red, burnt, and swollen. Burn blisters marred it painfully. The worst part of the injury, however, was smack dab in the middle of his palm. The skin was black and crumbling like a piece of charred paper in the exact shape of a cross. It was dead, just like the rest of Bill, but much worse. Just the sight turned Dipper's stomach upside down and he could barely keep looking at it. He was shocked that Bill could stand something so utterly agonizing.

An overwhelming sense of guilt flooded Dipper’s mind. Yes, he was angry, confused, and frightened, but he couldn't ignore the fact that he had hurt the Count in this way. When Madame Fate gave him the rosary, he thought it would just keep Bill away from him, like a deterrent-- not that it would hurt the vampire so horribly.

Dipper had just severely harmed his  ~~ crush ~~ best friend. He had just severely harmed a monster, too. These truths both coexisted in a mind crushing duality and Dipper had no idea what to think-- he only knew that he hated being so clueless. The guilt was just as suffocating as the betrayal.

He lowered his head and murmured softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't know what that thing could do." It was all he could do, right? Apologize. Hope that Bill would forgive him even though a stubborn part of Dipper seethed that Dipper wasn’t the one that needed forgiveness.

The air was as thick as gelatin with the tension filling the room.

Bill looked at Dipper's bandage. He knew that the bite mark he had was just as deep and hurt. "You don't have to apologize, Pinetree. I deserve it. After all, I hurt you badly, too. Heh. You know what they say: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. I am therefore fully responsible for bearing the consequences for my actions."

This answer surprised Dipper. He knew what pain the Count must have been in and yet Bill thought he fully deserved it? Dipper wasn't sure if it was stupid of Bill or if he was really felt so responsible and guilty. Receiving the apology was both wrong and justified.

Dipper missed when situations could be black and white.

One way or another, Dipper continued his questions. He asked questions such as whether the villagers knew about Bill's true identity, what he was doing down in the crypt during the daytime, how many vampires had he already met, and so on. He tried to avoid any conversation about death or any other morbid issue. However, Dipper could not deny the fact that, although he was still somewhat frightened and still longed to escape from the castle of terror, he slowly managed to calm down during his conversation. He no longer shouted and didn't try to hit Bill even though the blond had given him permission to do so. Dipper had a right to be mad at him, he had a right to shout at him.  (Just as Bill had some right to be wary of him too.) Yet, he decided to stay calm,  _ at least for now. _

“Oh, actually, I wanted to give you something…” Bill got up from his chair and walked over to the table where a small red wooden box rested. He handed it to Dipper and said, "Here, open it."

Wondering what was inside, Dipper lifted the lid and held his breath in surprise. In the red velvet filling of the bottom of the cabinet lay a necklace-- rather a choker. It was made of thicker black lace with snowflake tine-like embellishments creating the outline. A blue capsule lay in the middle of a metal flower shaped pendant with hollow petals. A small cross hung from the lowest. Small chains typically used as necklace chains arched downwards from the lace to individual bottom petals.

Dipper was almost afraid of ruining it by just a touch. He looked up at Bill with big eyes. "Why are you giving me something like this? And, um, where did you get it? It looks quite expensive.” 

Bill smiled a little when he saw Pinetree try not to show the joy of the gift he had given him. He pointed his finger at the capsule. "I bought it from Madame Fate. It is a special necklace for your protection."

"What? For  _ protection?” _ Dipper repeated. 

"Yes, it serves to prevent any vampire from biting you, including me. The little capsule inside contains holy water. And you yourself saw what that or any other saint objects could do to me. That's why I want you to wear it 24 hours a day."

The brunette took the choker in his hand and put it on. It fit him perfectly. He might be crazy, but he kind of felt safer with him on his neck too. He knew Bill couldn't hurt him now unless he wanted to get hurt again. But Dipper couldn't understand why Bill was doing it. Surely there must have been some significance behind this. Bill kept telling him that he didn't want to bite him, hurt him, and now he had given him this protection. The question was why he treated Dipper like that.

All of this, and yet, only one question stood out in his mind.

“Bill?” Dipper held a hand up to his neck, feeling the lace. The sensation of the patterns managed to keep him calm enough to ask, “Why… Why do you care so much?”

Bill blinked. He visibly hadn’t expected a question like that. “Why would I not? You’re my guest.”   
  
Dipper shook his head. “I’m  _ just _ a guest. No one important. So why did you go through all the trouble for this? For me?”

Bill tugged a little at the end of his bandage, tightening it. “No one likes feeling unsafe in a place they’re staying for so long, and, well--” He paused.

“And what?”

“...I want you to be my vampire bride.”

There was silence in the room. Dipper sat on the bed, unable to believe the words he now heard from the earl's mouth. His heart began to beat fast, but he didn't know why. Was he so scared or was he...? No, he couldn't think of that! He must not forget who the blond man in front of him was for real. He must not let the squeezing of his heart distract his mind from the facts.

He hadn’t even realized how much of a deer in the headlights he appeared.

"W--What do you mean? Why would you say something like that?” Dipper stammered.

Bill held out his hands to try to calm Dipper down. “Calm down, Pinetree! I don't mean it in  _ that  _ sense."

“Huh? What do you mean by it then?”

"Well..." Bill cleared his throat and scratched the top of his head. It was hard to choose the words in his head so that it wouldn't sound uncomfortable or perverse to Dipper. The last thing he wants would be to make things even more awkward for them. “You know, we vampires often experience a sense of abandonment in our immortal lives. And to have some company with us, it is customary for a vampire to look for ‘a bride.’ And that is the person who lives with a vampire. Gender doesn't matter so ‘the bride’ could be anyone. This also applies to the feelings that the vampire and the bride feel between each other. They can be lovers, friends or just ‘business partners.’ But one thing is the same for all vampire brides… Each of them gives the vampire their blood.”

"No way! Just no! Forget about it!" Dipper jumped into Bill's speech. What the fuck?! One moment Bill’s saying he was sorry and would never feed from him again, and the next he wants Dipper to be his  _ designated blood bank?!  _ The horrible experiences of the first bite were enough for him to have trauma for the rest of his life. How could Bill think Dipper would let him attack again? Or was Bill really such a bloodthirsty creature, desperate for every drop of blood?

"Wait, Pinetree! Let me finish talking,” Bill begged.

Dipper sighed. He wanted this conversation behind him as soon as possible. It was too much for him. All the information, the facts, the truth about Bill… It all confused his mind so much. He was tired and longing to escape the castle as soon as possible. But that could not be done with having Bill in his room.

Dipper nodded.

Bill continued, "It's not about when I bite you, it's about when  _ you _ give me  _ permission  _ to drink your blood. It can be said that it is a kind of regular blood donation. Provided I can't bite anyone but you."

"So you're saying I'd determine when you get to eat and when you don't?"

"Exactly."

"And at what price? There must be a catch.”

"There’s not. At the cost of helping me suppress that mad violent beast with your blood, I offer you anything you want.”

Dipper frowned. It sounded more like a text from a romantic movie than something that could actually be done. It was commitment to a relationship that they hadn’t even discussed. None of it changed that Dipper was afraid of being bitten. He was afraid of the terrible pain he felt, almost dying because of it. Whenever he imagined the scene, his hands began to shake.

Bill noticed and gently grabbed Dipper’s hand with his good one. The Count held the other’s hand like it was precious, a soft touch to calm him down. Dipper wanted to pull his hand away and tell him to stay back, but Bill looked him straight in the eye.

"Pinetree, I promise that if you consider my offer, I'll make sure the bite doesn't hurt at all. No pain, no feeling dizzy. I  _ promise  _ you that,  _ with my life.” _

"I-I… No, I won't do it! I won't be your fucking chew toy!" Dipper unconsciously held his neck like he was protecting it and ripped his hand away.

Bill rose from his chair. It was clear that he’d never get through to Dipper as long as he was in this state and that none of this made sense. Giving Dipper some space was the best option. Bill couldn't tell him everything he needed to know like this, especially how he felt about him when Dipper was so afraid of him. So Bill turned and walked slowly to the door.

"Okay, I see. But… Please try to consider it. You don't want me hurting anyone, I don't want to hurt anyone or you... But I understand if it's too much for you. I won't disturb you anymore. Good night."

Dipper's warning light came on at that moment. If Dipper turned down the offer, it means Bill would still need to drink blood, right? But if Dipper's wearing that necklace, where would the count get the blood?

... No. He couldn't!

Bill didn't say he wouldn’t drink the blood of that poor maid Sarah! The girl was younger than Dipper and she certainly didn't deserve to be involved in this vampire affair. Just the thought of feeling the pain Dipper felt…

"Hold on!" Dipper blurted. 

Bill turned in surprise. "Yes?" He watched Dipper in bed grip a piece of sheet in his hands. He sure was nervous about this. Bill’s heart ached a little for making his Pinetree like this.

"About the “blood donation” thing... How-- How often would I have to do this?” Dipper could barely make eye contact. “So you don't have to bite anyone else?”

Bill stared at Dipper in disbelief. He didn't expect him to show interest in his offer, not after what Bill did to him. He released the doorknob and returned to his chair.

Bill cleared his throat and answered, "Well, it's up to you, Pinetree. None of it will hurt. But I can stay hungry for a month at most."

"So, once a month?"

"Pinetree, that's my  _ limit line _ . You yourself saw what I was like when I lost control. Plus a longer period of time between feeding means more blood to drink and the likelihood that you will feel sick.”

Dipper pressed his lips into a thin line. He didn’t like any of this. "So what do you suggest then, Bill?"

"Once every three days would be fine."

Dipper’s jaw nearly dropped. "No way! Once every three weeks."

Bill winced. "Um, once every 5 days?" He could go as long as Dipper wanted without Dipper being guaranteedly sick.

"Every two weeks."

"Okay, how about once a week?"

Dipper thought about it for several long moments and reluctantly nodded. It wasn't exactly what he wanted, but it was still enough time for him to come up with an escape plan by then or mentally prepare. But he wanted one more thing. "Okay, I agree, but only on the condition that you  _ try  _ to drink blood packs as well. I don’t want to be your only food source. And also, don't come to my room if I don't allow you or if I'm asleep."

_ Oh thank god. _ Bill sighed, the tension in his shoulders alleviating. “Okay, that's fair enough.” He held out a hand. "Is this a deal?" 

Dipper hesitated. He didn't want to believe he was doing it. He was about to agree to be a donor to the same creature that nearly killed him last night. Still, it was the best decision at the time to protect others. So he took Bill and shook it. "Well, it's a deal. I hope you'll keep your part that it won't hurt. ” He gave him a fake smile. 

"I'm the man of my word,” Bill reassured. “And when I say I'll take good care of a person I care about, I truly mean it." It was said like it was a secret that slipped out, something that he trusted Dipper with. Bill faintly smiled and stepped away from his Pinetree.

He originally wanted to kiss Dipper's knuckles, but he immediately wiped the thoughts from his mind. He had to give Dipper room, because if he put the slightest pressure on him now, their whole relationship would break into thousands of pieces of glass that could  _ never  _ be put together again.

Bill stepped back from the bed and, for real now, began to leave the room. "Well, I'll give you some time now to rest. Please take care of yourself and sleep. Also, be sure to try to eat something from what Pyronica cooked for you. If you need anything, they'll be here for you. I must leave, the sun is rising in a moment. And, Pinetree… “

The Count looked up and looked into Dipper's eyes with the sincerity and care the journalist had only seen in his sister before. "Thank you. Good night and sleep well.” They were whispered as if they were a secret too. Bill walked out of the bedroom without another word.

As the door closed and the sounds of the earl's footsteps slowly disappeared, Dipper pressed his knees to his head. He tried to be calm, but alone he could not suppress the wave of emotion he felt. He was clueless, confused, and didn't know what to do. He had just signed his life away to be a food bank for someone who would never die.

What was Dipper supposed to think about Bill? Should he hate him? Believe him? Should Dipper think about his escape plan? Ah, hell, he was so weak he couldn't even get out of bed! 

All he could do at that moment was let hot tears run down his face.

"Oh, God, what did I get myself into?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT!

_ July 19, 2021 _

_ This is my secret diary, which I write in one of my old notebooks, which I brought here to Romania with me. It is my only way to write about my days here now, because it is quite clear to me that with my imprisonment here in the castle, I am no longer allowed to write letters to my family. Although I didn't even ask Bill about it. However, I do not want to risk angering the Count. I've seen what it's like when he loses his mental control because of anger, and I definitely don't want to ever see it again. _

_ It's been two weeks since Bill bit me and I became his prisoner… Well, I can't call myself a "prisoner," not really, because nothing has changed for me and my freedom. I can go anywhere inside the castle, walk around the castle yard or garden… I could even walk away! “Just take your belongings and walk across the bridge away from the castle,” one could say, but I know it's not a way for me to escape. The journey from the castle to the village is long, dangerous and there was always a chance that I would get lost. And all this is exacerbated by the fact that in the forest and in the mountains lived those bloodthirsty wolves who had attacked people traveling through this landscape countless times. The chances of them being torn to pieces with their sharp teeth are too high for me to try such an escape. So I tried to come up with another alternative. Unfortunately, I have no other ideas yet. I have to wait for the right situation. _

_ So far, however, my life here at the castle is surprisingly peaceful, as if no incident with a vampire bite ever happened… kinda. I spent the first few days in my bedroom. Not only because I was weak, but also because I was afraid to meet Bill again. I had a lot of thoughts to think about-- about the deal, the vampires, and especially Bill himself. Literally finding out about Bill being a vampire turned my whole world upside down. I don't know what to think about it, although now I can say that I'm trying my best to not to be so scared anymore. And to my surprise, Pyronica helped me quite a bit with that.  _

_ Since Bill tried to give me some space, she was the only one who came to visit me to bring me some food, water, or just try to keep me company. At first I was as afraid of her as I was of Bill-- after all, she was also a vampire. But then I remembered wearing the necklace and being protected against her. And when I dared to talk to her about her "immortal life," it turned out that Pyronica was still the kind maid I knew. Talking to her was kind of easier than talking to Bill. Maybe because she never bit me.  _

_ She explained to me that what Bill had done was really just an accident and that what Bill had said, he really meant it. She didn't seem to be lying to me, but I still couldn't forgive Bill so easily. I mean, he hurt me, both physically and mentally. I trusted him and felt safe with him, and now knowing that he has it in him to do things like that scares me. I probably should have seen it coming. When he broke my mirror, it was a red flag right in front of my face, but I didn’t connect the dots until they were attached to my neck. _

_ It hurts to have someone you  _ ~~_ love _ ~~ _ find important be not who you expected. _

_ Still, it looks like Bill is really trying to make it up to me. He follows all the rules that I set in our agreement. He always asked me if he could enter the bedroom, keeping a meter distance from me and not touching me unless necessary. I'm not sure if he's keeping his promise to drink blood packs, but I guess so because it's been 2 weeks since I was bitten and Bill never wanted to drink my blood. He told me he wanted to give me space to heal, which I appreciated. _

_ It was quite nice of him...compared to his “monster self.” It reminds me slowly more and more of the Count I knew before. Every time we meet at dinner, he asks me how I’m feeling, if I’m okay with him staying there, if he should better go and leave me there with Pyronica… He even asked me once if I could show him my neck (with the choker on, of course) to just let him see if the bite mark was healing well. It was...well, nice of him? It's kinda crazy to say something like that since I'm still scared of him biting me with those terrifying bloody eyes. Yet, I'm slowly giving him a chance to stay closer to me.  _

_ But not for too long. Afterall, I need to escape from this place. I don't plan to be here as his walking blood pack forever! I miss my family, especially Mabel and the thought that I would never see her again terrifies me. _

_ I just need to find a way to escape… _

  
  
\-------------------------------------  
  


“Oh, Mr. Pines! Good afternoon,” Sarah greeted as soon as she saw Dipper coming down the stone steps. The girl's hands were dirty with soil, as was her skirt, but she didn't mind. Working in the garden was one of her most favorite activities to do at the castle. She loved being outside when it was such a beautiful day. Birds sang in the treetops, the sun was shining, and they could feel the rain lingering in the air from a few hours before. There wasn’t too much breeze, but when it swept through, it ruffled their hair and caressed their cheeks. 

Dipper smiled at her. “Dipper, Sarah. Just call me Dipper. You know I'm not much older than you.” Carefully, he walked down the rest of the stairs and over to Sarah, who was kneeling by the flowerbed just a short distance away. She was picking some tomatoes and carefully placing them in a wicker basket beside her.

“Oh, my bad, my bad! Sorry, I'm still forgetting about that because you know, ‘maid vs master’ stuff. Haha…” Her sincere laughter always lifted Dipper's mood. It was nice to spend the day with someone who could come out while the sun was still shining. Dipper closed his eyes for a moment and enjoyed that nice feeling of warmth on his skin. Feeling how gently the sun tickled his nose, while he listened to birds singing. 

Bill’s image flashed behind Dipper’s eyelids. He opened them. Bill never had a chance to feel anything like this, had he? Never felt the warmth of the sun, laying on his back on the grass and stare at the fluffy big clouds…

Wow, Dipper never realized how depressing it must be for Bill to live in the endless cold darkness. It explained why he got a sense of needy connection to the outside world from Bill.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts of Bill and turned to Sarah. "Would you like me to help you? That looks like a lot of work.”

“Oh, that would be very kind of you!” Sarah’s eyes lit up. “I’m almost done with picking up those tomatoes, so why won't you try to collect some of those cucumbers?”

“Sure thing!”

Dipper walked over to the cucumber plants and began picking them. It was a lot more fun for him than being alone in his room and reading. Not that Dipper had anything against reading, he  _ loved  _ literature. But when you did it every day, you soon got tired and bored. Plus your eyes began to hurt because if you were anything like Dipper, you read in horrible lighting. At least he had someone to spend time with. He talked to Sarah about her day, telling her jokes while whistling different melodies during their work.

But as Dipper looked at the basket full of those cucumbers and shiny blood-red tomatoes, he started to think about Bill again. It was hard not to think about him, after all this time Dipper spent with the Count. It was infuriating how much Bill infested his thoughts.

He worried that Bill would sooner or later bite him with or without his permission. If Dipper waited too long, Bill would break and Dipper would  _ truly _ be dead. The whole bride proposal was a solution to that, but it felt like much more than just a friendship. 

_ Were _ they friends? Were they  _ still _ friends? Was the bride proposal a show of wanting to be more? An intimate relationship? Dipper had to continue pushing off the little warmth inside of him that spread whenever he considered the thought of Bill offering the deal because he fancied him as well, which begged the question-- did Dipper even hate Bill or was it just an anger response quickly fading away?

Dipper couldn’t even rely on himself to know what he was feeling. Banging his head against a wall would be much more productive than he had been for a long time.

"Um, Dipper, is something wrong?" Sarah suddenly spoke. Dipper looked up and found her gazing at him worriedly.

"What? No, not at all. I was just daydreaming,” Dipper replied, chuckling nervously. He rubbed the back of his neck as an anxious habit.

“No, it's not just daydreaming.” Sarah frowned and sat back on her heels, her dress pulled over her knees politely. “I can certainly tell that… Is it because of Master Cipher?” 

Dipper blinked twice. Did she read his mind? “How do you--”

“Well, I've noticed that you and him have some troubles. Like, I'm living here only for two weeks, but from what I've heard from Miss Pyronica, you two were kinda close. But now every time I see you looking at him, you look so… Well, it's hard to explain. Very mixed up and worried? So from that, I guess you two had a fight or something?” 

Dipper clenched his fist. He wanted to tell her about everything between him and Bill,  _ so much _ . But he couldn't. He didn't want to endanger her life. Dipper decided to put her aside from this, so he kept this ‘vampire thing’ a secret. Still, he couldn't deny the fact that he really had trouble being calm with Bill by his side. After all, the man had hurt him, and the scars on his heart healed worse than the scars on his body.

Dipper didn’t answer at first. His eyes locked on a sparrow jumping over the flowerbeds and refused to move. After a moment, in a low voice, he looked at Sarah and asked, "Tell me, Sarah. If someone hurt you,  _ a lot _ , would you be able to trust them again?”

Sarah didn't try to think about it for a moment, and with a smile, she replied, "Yes, definitely yes." That surprised Dipper. He understood that Sarah had a heart of gold, but that she could forgive someone who would seriously hurt her? He dared to consider the possibility that she was just incredibly naive. 

"How can you say something like that without any thought?" Dipper rasped.

Sarah’s eyes locked onto his own. "Because I've been through it."

Dipper couldn't even ask what she meant by it when the maid rolled up her sleeve and revealed a large pink scar on her arm.

"When I was a child," Sarah said as she touched the scar with her fingers, "my parents bought me a dog. It was a corgi I named Momo. He was very playful and always spent time with me. One day, however, when I was about 6, I covered his eyes and pet him on the back. I don't know why, I guess I wanted to play tag with him or something. Anyway, I scared Momo and he bit me deeply in the arm. Of course, my parents panicked, because I had to have the wound sutured at the hospital. My arm looked like it was in pretty bad shape. They were afraid that Momo would hurt me again, so they wanted to put him down. But I begged them to keep him. It was my fault, after all…” The corner of her lips twitched, caught in the bridge between a sad beginning and a better end. “Well, in the end, they decided to let it be for a long time, but at the same time, they were very careful whenever I played with Momo. Their worries turned out to be insignificant because he had never bitten me since that day. He was my best friend until he had to go to dog heaven... Maybe you two have a similar problem?”

Dipper stared at Sarah and her scar. There was… no relation between a person and a dog whatsoever. One had extensive, complex thought processes and chose to do bad, and the other was a pet who ran on biological, animal instinct to protect itself.

But… he had to admit that somehow her story  _ was  _ similar to the problem he had. After all, who knows how Bill would react if he didn't burn his hand by rosary. Maybe he would explain everything to Dipper in peace and there would never be that bite attack. Maybe the bite was a combination of both hunger and a survival instinct. It made sense, but Dipper still felt some fear in the back of his mind. Accident or no accident, he still agreed to let Bill feed from him. He did all this just because he wanted to protect Sarah from this fate. She was too nice to go through this.

"I guess you're right, Sarah,” Dipper sighed. He cracked a smile. “I'll try to talk to him about it.”

Sarah bumped him with her elbow gently and cheerfully grinned. "That's my boy!” she crowed. “Well, the sun will start setting soon. Will you help me take these vegetables to the kitchen? There will be tomato soup for dinner tonight!” She picked up a basket full of vegetables and walked slowly up the stairs.

"Yeah, I'd love to. I can't wait to taste it!"

They left the garden together with vegetables in their hands, and Dipper somehow stopped thinking about Bill for a moment out of joy…

  
\-------------------------------------  
  


"Thank you for the food, it was delicious,” Dipper thanked the two maids as soon as he had finished his soup. He had sat at the kitchen table with all of Cipher's servants and they dined together. 

Bill hadn’t joined them. His excuse was that he was "not hungry." Dipper, however, somehow knew it was a lie and Bill just couldn't eat what looked like blood. At least, that was an assumption that sated Dipper enough not to question it too much.

Both Pyronica and Eightball were used to human food in their own way, so eating with Dipper and Sarah was no problem for them. Dipper suspected that they had their "real dinner" earlier that evening, so they were trying to look like normal people to Sarah. It was an effort that at least Dipper appreciated. Pyronica actually adored the taste of food though, surprisingly enough. Before becoming a maid here in the castle and a vampire, she used to be a cook, so she spent most of her life cooking and eating food.

The fact that both vampires in the room were full and not hungry at all helped Dipper relax. Not to mention that it was a pretty nice dinner. Satisfied and full, he watched as the others finished their portions, then placed their spoons in empty plates.

"Thank you for dinner as well. I'm glad you all enjoyed it.” Sarah got up from the table and collected the plates, smiling brightly. She was more than happy that she managed to please those she took orders from. She yawned as she placed the dishes into the sink. "Well, however, I'll go to bed. See you tomorrow and good night!” She waved at everyone and disappeared out the door. 

She was quite tired after a day full of work, so it was understandable that she wanted to go to bed early. Dipper didn't mind, and he and the rest of the servants wished her good night. Now there were only the four of them.

"Oh, Mr. Pines. Before you leave,” Pyronica said abruptly to him as he was about to leave the kitchen. He had a book in his bedroom that he planned to finish that evening. 

"Yes?" Dipper turned his head toward her.

"Master Cipher wanted me to tell you that he wants to meet you in his bedroom," Pyronica said. 

Dipper’s heart dropped deep into his stomach. 

_ Bedroom. _

During his entire stay at the castle, Dipper had never found a room that would be Bill's bedroom. If Bill wanted him to go and meet him there, it meant only one thing: it was time for Dipper's first ‘blood donation.’

The time that had stretched so far ahead of him had now snapped back like a rubber band right into his face. Dipper had been buying off his time and pretending like he had plenty of it, even though the days were ticking by quick, and here was his reality check.

His stomach churned and threatened to expel the soup in it. Maybe his very soul too-- even then, he’d be lucky. If he had no soul, maybe he wouldn’t have to be a vampire’s blood bank.

Dipper had no idea what he was gonna do. His palms sweat and trembled, body cold and hot at the same time in fear. He wasn’t prepared, he wasn’t ready, he had no  _ strategy _ to get out of this. Nothing to hold over Bill’s head anymore to avoid it.

He would have to face the reality that he had built from other’s choices.

With a hard swallow, he shakily nodded.

Dipper quietly followed Pyronica. His knees barely held him up, but they persevered. He gripped a piece of his shirt in his hand and wondered exactly what to expect in the bedroom. 

Will Bill pounce on him again like an animal? No, he hoped not. Bill promised it wouldn't hurt, but what exactly did he mean by that? After all, the bite of such a large fang must have hurt  _ somehow _ , no matter how he would bite him. What was the customary routine for a feeding session? Was this… still just some ‘friendship’?

They continued through the west wing of the castle as silent as ever until they stopped at one white door. 

"Oh, I almost forgot," Pyronica broke the silence, "the Count wanted you to take the bath he had prepared for you before you'll meet him."

“He  _ what _ ?” Dipper blinked twice and stared at her. Did he hear her correctly? Bill actually prepared  _ a bath _ for him? He didn't understand why he would do such a thing. Dipper thought Bill wanted to bite him. 

What good would it be for Dipper to be bathed? Maybe to keep his skin clean? It sounded meaningful, but not what you boy assumed was  _ the real _ reason. 

Pyronica opened the door and gestured for the boy to enter. "Take as much time as you want. When you're bathed and clean, I'll take you to the Master's bedroom. Enjoy it.” She smiled. As soon as he entered the room, the door closed behind him.

Dipper took one look and gaped.

The bathroom was nothing short of the word  _ lavish. _ It was still believably part of the tired and weary castle, but its interior sprung to life in a way that the portraits and gargoyles would never succeed at. The scent of lavender tickled his nose.

It wasn’t an overly large room, as the counter and walk space was structured around the tub itself, but it was still sizable. The pinkish cream, hard-tiled floor shined just like the carved, patterned counter spaces lining each side. The entrance opened wide and narrowed at the tub that was situated against the farthest side, a large curtained window next to it. If the castle wasn’t evident of it, the bathroom was obviously born of riches with pink and gold embellishments on the trim of the walls and counter spaces. Not a speck of dirt marred its beauty.

Although the bathroom was certainly beautiful, it wasn’t what kept Dipper in awe. It was the  _ romance. _ More than enough candles were lit along the tub’s edges in pinks, reds, yellows, and whites. Next to the head of the tub was a small bowl of nuts, accompanied by two fluffy, soft towels. The entirety of the room was drenched in a Cupid’s touch by now.

Dipper  _ loved it. _ He didn’t understand why Bill would ever go through the trouble  _ (this looked like a date, why would he make it a date?) _ , but he still appreciated it all the same. After having such grim recent times, he would take the happiness he could get. 

Amazed, Dipper walked to a tub full of water and touched the rose petals that floated on the surface. The water itself smelled pleasant, like a lavender. Bill must have poured some bath oil there. He hesitated for a moment, but finally decided to take off his clothes. He kept only the necklace. Carefully, Dipper sat in the bathtub and immediately felt a pleasant warmth and comfort.

Well, he had to admit, this was actually pretty nice. More than nice. Lying in a warm bath, in absolute silence, with candles around him and looking out the window at the big shining moon was really wonderful. He felt his body slowly get rid of all the stress and nervousness he had. The only thing left in his body was a feeling of relaxation.

Dipper closed his eyes and gently touched his neck with his fingers, traveling with his hand down to his shoulder and hand. He thought about what was to come later that evening-- a bite. The bite the boy got back then healed completely in those two weeks. 

So did that mean Bill would bite him in a new place? But where exactly? To the neck? Shoulder? Or somewhere else entirely? Dipper still remembered his biology lessons about where all the important arteries and veins in human bodies were. It was therefore possible that Bill could bite him in the forearms, from which blood was often taken in hospitals. It was strange that Dipper thought about it that way, especially when just 20 minutes ago the slightest thought of it would give him goosebumps and dread. But now he was somehow relieved of fear and just curious.

Why was he suddenly alright with this? Dipper suspected it was because of the care that went into the pre-bite, for lack of a better word. The original bite was barbaric and fueled from an animalistic attack.  _ This, _ however, was the complete opposition. It took Dipper’s comfort into interest, an effort to relax him there. It was pre-thought, intentional. Nothing careless or taken for granted.

Dipper was relieved he wasn’t constantly on his toes still, but… He really wished his mind would stick to one thing.

The sound of a knock on the door disturbed his thoughts. 

"It's just me, Mr. Pines," Pyronica said from behind the door, "I just want to make sure you're okay. I also brought you some fresh clothes!"

Oh, damn. Dipper almost forgot that Bill was expecting him. The water had gotten him all nice and warm that he’d gotten lost in his thoughts. He turned his head and answered, "Yes, Pyronica, I’m fine. I'm almost done, just give me a few minutes to dry!” 

Dipper stood up in the tub and grabbed one of the soft fluffy towels. As he dried off and stepped out, he looked once more at the tub full of rose petals and smiled a little. 

None of this would have to be so terrible for him…

\-------------------------------------

Dried and changed into the new clothes Pyronica had brought him, Dipper was led through the west wing of the castle. He was no longer as nervous as he had been before. He even found it in him to make some conversation. He couldn't stop being afraid of what lay ahead, but thanks to Pyronica and her kind words, Dipper managed to suppress the feeling for a while. 

They stopped at a very familiar, large door. It was the door to Bill's office, one of the few rooms where Dipper was banned from entering without Bill's permission. But this was a different case now because Bill wanted to see him there. 

Wait… What were they actually doing in there? After all, Pyronica said Bill wanted to see him in his  _ bedroom. _ However, Dipper did not dare ask Pyronica about it and simply followed her inside.

Dipper had seen the inside of the office before, but not completely. The first time Bill took him on a tour of the castle, they stopped here for a second, and Bill opened the door for Dipper so he could peek inside. But then he closed the door and said Dipper would never go there without Bill's permission. Being able to see it now even with permission felt akin to eating the forbidden fruit.

The whole room was painted red and the wooden floor was covered with large Persian rugs with the same shade of red. There wasn't much furniture compared to open space, but around the perimeter of the walls were a few large bookshelves, portraits, a fireplace, and a purple armchair. However, the most attention was gained by a large mahogany table, which stood with a leather chair in front of a large French window. On the table then were a lot of papers and documents in the box, probably about Bill's businesses.

Dipper nearly stepped towards the fireplace when he paused. Was that music? Strange, since the only musical instrument he had ever seen in the castle was a piano, which was on the opposite side of the castle. There was no way for Dipper to hear it from here. But if it wasn't a piano, then what was it?

"This way, Mr. Pines," Pyronica coughed to get Dipper’s attention. She pulled on the globe on one of the shelves and the bookcase opened to reveal a secret door behind. Right beyond was a wooden staircase leading upwards. "Master Cipher is already expecting you. Just go up these stairs until you reach the door.”

_ Wow. _ A secret passage here too? How many others were there?

Once again, Dipper became overwhelmed with the feeling that the future was approaching too fast. Nerves set in quick and shook his hands. 

“Thank you.” He took a long, deep breath, and climbed the stairs with his clenched fists.

After a while, he made it to the door he was told about. Behind it came the mysterious sound of music, much louder than down in the office. 

Well, there was no time to hesitate. Dipper took all the courage he had and pushed open the door.

It was nothing short of  _ grand. _

It was much bigger than any room Dipper had seen before with vast space to move above. It had an arched ceiling of mahogany rafters. The shape, plus the enormous gothic window showing a magnificent view of the mountains and forest, showed they were on the top floor. The dark red curtains were drawn mostly shut and the moon managed to light up the small strip they didn’t cover. A huge chandelier in the middle of the room hung with flickering candles, which joined the numerous candles littered around and the roaring fire in a brownish-cream colored hearth. A couple dark green seats and portraits of old on the walls flanked the sides. Near that fire was a large king bed in elegant silks of reds, golds, and darker accompanying colors that allowed the main two pop. 

At the very end of the room was a pipe organ. It wasn’t as big as others Dipper had seen before-- it did not take up most of the room or pipes as thick as his body reaching up towards the ceiling, but it was no less grand. Its pipes staggered into an arched pattern, coated in an aged bronze. Dipper felt like he was staring at ancient history when he gazed upon them. The carved, polished wood everything was built into did nothing to help that sense of timelessness.

Dipper was speechless. He had no words that could match up to the beauty this lovely bedroom possessed. The smell of old books and Bill’s cologne enveloped his body like a hug.

Dipper hesitantly stepped through the door. Next to it was a trash can full of empty plasma packs, something that eased the anxiety of their deal a little.

_ "So this is Bill's room,"  _ he thought, turning his head. He noticed that the source of the music in the room was the earl playing the pipe organ. Dipper didn't know what kind of song it was, but it sounded very nice. It was obvious that Bill was an experienced musician. However, as soon as the Count noticed Dipper closing the door behind him, he stopped playing and greeted him with a smile. 

"Ah, my dear Pinetree! I see you've finally come."

Unlike when Dipper woke up after the bite, Bill looked great tonight. Perfectly combed hair, dressed in his fancy suit with a black coat, and smelling like cinnamon and orange. Exactly as Dipper loved it… 

Uhhh, he meant his appearance! Not the full person or anything! Hell, why did he suddenly feel blushing? Was it because he just had a bath? Was it nerves? He knew the answer to all of this, but refused to admit it to himself. 

"I didn't know you could play the pipe organ.” Dipper stepped closer towards Bill. The Count took it as a compliment and smiled. 

"Yes, my father taught me to play it when I was little. And with how long I've been living, I had quite a lot of time to practice. After all, there is nothing better on such a beautiful night than playing the organ and enjoying its lovely sound.” 

Dipper mentally agreed. He really liked the music coming from this instrument. Most people would find organ music scary or boring, but for Dipper it was special and an experience to listen to. He would  _ love to _ sit next to Bill and listen to him play all night.

But Bill didn't invite Dipper to his room to listen to him play. Dipper knew very well what the Count wanted from him, even if Bill himself was acting like he hadn’t requested him.

Bill got up from his chair, chuckling, and walked over to the liquor cabinet. "Would you like to have a drink? I have some mulled wine here. I know it is more of a drink for winter evenings, but it's also great for reading by the fireplace. You know, Keyhole brought me some new books, and I thought--"

"Bill, what are you doing? We both know that's not why you invited me here.” Dipper scratched his forearm nervously. He didn't understand why Bill wanted to put the whole ‘bite thing’ off. Bill must have been hungry and all of this was inevitable, yet he didn’t take what was there and bite Dipper right away. Why?

Bill stopped and returned the bottle to the liquor cabinet. 

"Yes, that's true. I just thought it would be good for both of us to help you relax. After all, I promised you it wouldn't hurt.” He spoke softly as if he was trying to enchant Dipper with his words. It was as if everything he said was serious and really wanted to make sure Dipper wasn't nervous. Dipper found it… very nice of him... In that situation.

"So if you don't feel like it yet, we can read some books together for now. Or talk, play the organ, whatever you want,” Bill suggested, but Dipper shook his head.

"N-no, I can do it. Let's do it now, get this over with as soon as possible.” The endless waiting was  _ unbearable  _ for Dipper. He just couldn't wait that long for the pain he was so afraid of. Better to do it now than to lose the rest of the bravery left in him.

Bill sighed. It was clear Dipper was a nervous wreck about this, but he also knew that he did not want to wait any longer. It was best to just make this as comfortable as possible. 

Bill walked over to the large bed and turned to Dipper. "Alright then. Come sit here.” He tried to sound as friendly as he could.

Dipper did as he was told and perched himself as far away as possible on the corner of the bed. That way if things went badly, he could run. 

"Oh, no, don't sit on the edge!” Bill fussed. “Sit in the middle of the bed. Make yourself comfortable. This isn’t a quick process.” 

Dipper didn't understand why he should, but he did as Bill asked him anyways. As soon as he sank down into the middle of the bed, he was glad that he had obeyed. It was  _ much _ more comfortable, despite his worries of wanting to run. Dipper could easily imagine sleeping in such a bed and reading all day. He sat in the lotus position and waited for further instructions.

This… God, Dipper couldn’t quiet the mess in his brain. This wasn’t going to be a quick process? Well, duh, but did that mean he’d be incapacitated for hours? The possibility rose his heart rate even further. He couldn’t show any fear, but he knew he was doing a horribly bad job at hiding it.

"Can you take off your necklace?" Bill asked. Dipper swallowed nervously. This was the moment that made him so uncomfortable because the necklace was his  _ only  _ protection. The only way to be safe, unharmed. Dipper's stomach tightened in fear. He carefully removed the choker with shaky hands and laid it on the bedside table next to the bed.

"W--Well, what--what’s next?" he asked. Ah, fuck, he should have kept his mouth shut. That damn stuttering!

Bill noticed and raised a brow. "You're nervous, Pinetree."

"W--What? Of course not! H-How could I be nervous? It's nothing big, you're just going to bite me with your  _ big  _ fangs! Nothing to be nervous about at all!”

Dipper had the subtlety of a bull in a china shop.

Bill didn't want to argue about it. Instead, he placed his hand on Dipper's shoulder and looked deep into his eyes. "Pinetree-- do you trust me?" It was almost a whisper, so quiet that Dipper had to listen over the blood rushing in his ears. Like it was a secret. Dipper felt more grounded in his body now that he had in the past half hour.

Dipper stared. Bill certainly didn't look like he was trying to hurt him right now. Yes, his eyes were slowly changing from gold to red, but his gaze was caring and kind. He could have bruised Dipper with his hold or gone straight for the bite, but he was waiting until Dipper was ready.

Dipper never noticed how gentle Bill was until now.

He swallowed hard and nodded.

Bill smiled and asked Dipper to turn so his back was to Bill’s chest. Dipper fumbled while he moved and the adrenaline continued making his body tremble. Bill’s hand glanced up his side, which reminded Dipper to breathe. He took in a deep one and closed his eyes.

Bill leaned down, his hot breath against Dipper’s nape. Goosebumps rose on his Pinetree’s skin. Then came a gentle touch of his lips on his shoulder. 

_ Here it was. _ Dipper closed his eyes tightly and waited in sharp pain.

But the pain didn't come.

All Dipper felt was Bill's soft lips putting small kisses on his shoulder. They were cold, but somehow warmer than Dipper had ever felt them. 

“B-Bill? What are you doing?” Dipper flushed and tried to turn his head away. However, Bill’s cold hands, gently rubbing against his shoulders, awakened a pleasant feeling in him. It felt… quite nice.

The dreadful ache in his chest gradually dissipated.

"Shhh, Pinetree. Relax. I told you I'd make it painless. Just close your eyes and forget about that fear you have. I won't hurt you in any way.” Bill whispered in his ear. Dipper shuddered a little. Bill's lips travel over his back, shoulders and neck. Every patch of skin Bill kissed felt as warm and tingly as a fire. Dipper actually enjoyed it... Not to mention that these little ticklish pecks and Bill's efforts to reassure Dipper with this special care somehow made him chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Bill tutted. The easing of tension in Dipper’s muscles relieved him. 

"Ah, nothing. It's just kind of surprising how careful you are. You know… with a comparison from the night you attacked me.”

"Hey, I'm  _ always  _ careful!” Bill protested. “Plus you can't compare now to then. You know I wasn't myself back then."

"If you say so…” Dipper tried to bite back a grin. “But when you say 'always,’ does that mean you've done this to everyone you've ever bitten?"

"I make it painless, yes. However, I must admit I give you the most special and best care I ever have.” Dipper sensed a twinge of vulnerability in Bill’s words. His smile became softer.

"Oh, how nice of you,” he teased lightly. “I feel like a queen.” Both of them laughed together, practically melting into the other.

Dipper drew his focus back to how gently Bill touched his back. The hands at his shoulder blades and sliding down, lips so tender… He could live like this forever. Being pampered, worshipped.

It was now that Dipper let himself wonder how it would be if they were an actual couple. There was no harm in toying with the idea, was there? They were nothing at the moment, yet Bill treated him like royalty.

Dipper felt a little pinch like he’d brushed against rough fabric, but a pleasant, almost euphoric sensation came over him. Almost like he was high-- or, rather what he imagined it would be like. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he could say that it was quite pleasant. 

Dipper turned his head and asked, "Bill, what are you doing--" His big hazel eyes widened in shock as he wanted to look behind him. 

Bill had his fangs sunken into the crook of Dipper’s neck and was taking pulls of his blood. His eyes were closed, long eyelashes against his cheeks. 

Dipper's first reaction was panic. "Ah! Ou…..uch?"

Wait, what? 

Dipper almost didn’t believe it, but he felt no pain at all. Not a bit. He expected the same blinding pain that made him scream and cry in pain as it did back then, but this was completely different. It was more like a mosquito bite -- it itched a bit, but otherwise it was painless.

Bill chuckled at Dipper's reaction. It reminded him of a kitten, confused and dramatic in its youth… So adorable. He first wanted to tease Dipper a little about him overreacting, but he decided to keep silent and smiled to himself.

Bill licked the flowing blood from the wound and continued to suck.

Dipper shuddered at the Count's hot tongue. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt amazing. More than that, actually-- this was…  _ pleasurable. _ It was no longer just a feeling in his mind, but his body began to respond. Dipper’s body shook for other reasons and heat rose in his pants. He could barely suppress his desire to moan as Bill licked his bite.

Dipper wasn't allowed to, he  _ shouldn't  _ want to like it, but his mind kept telling him how  _ good  _ it was. He felt in a kind of trance, the opposite of the one he felt at the first bite. At the time, he wanted nothing more than to stop it, but now he wanted  _ nothing  _ to stop it, enjoying the wave of electricity passing through his body. 

If Bill hadn't stopped after a few minutes, Dipper certainly wouldn't have been able to hold back any longer. "Now, see? I told you, if you relax, it won't hurt. Was it so bad?” Bill smiled and stroked Dipper’s hair. He appreciated that Dipper tried to cooperate and managed to relax without any problems. Thanks to that, Bill was now satisfied and full of the sweetest blood in the world.

To be able to have Dipper was the greatest joy in the world to him.

Dipper noticed it right away. Bill’s eyes returned to their original golden color, reflecting nothing but absolute satisfaction.

"Well, I'm glad I could help you." Dipper tried to speak in a calm voice and not give away how aroused he was. "I honestly expected it to hurt more." 

Dipper pressed his thighs together, trying to suppress the warmth in his crotch. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, take a cold shower and run to his bedroom. However, Bill insisted that he treat Dipper properly and clean the wound so that it would heal quickly. He picked up a bottle of disinfectant and dropped a few drops into the wound. Dipper shuddered, but not because of the burning sensation in his wound. It was  _ something else. _

"Pinetree, are you alright? Your face is all red.” Bill paused, brows furrowed worriedly. He couldn’t see Dipper’s expression from how they were positioned, so he was relying on Dipper’s words.

"I-It's nothing! I just stayed in the bath for a long time. T-That's all.” Dipper stammered, pressing his thighs even tighter. 

Ah, what the hell was wrong with him?! That was the shittiest excuse known to man. Plus, until recently, he was afraid of Bill and did not want to be bitten  _ ever  _ again. But now? He was getting a boner from it! God, he didn’t understand anything anymore. 

He tried to suppress the pleasant feeling of warmth as Bill turned him to face him and stared in disbelief.

"Pinetree? You're hard." Bill stared at the bulge in the boy's pants, an equal amount of surprise on his face as Dipper felt about the situation himself. If Dipper could turn a tomato color, he did, and if he could die in a hole somewhere, he would.

He knew  _ this  _ was the reason for the heat in his crotch, but he didn't want to admit it. There was  _ no way _ Bill's tender words would give him an actual erection. There was no way that being a blood bank turned him on that much.  _ (But it did.) _

“Oh! U--Um, no, it’s not that. Just my pants. Yup! Just that.” Dipper yanked some of the blanket over his lap to hide it, humiliation as clear as day. Just his hand brushing against it from the blanket sent a zing of pleasure up his spine.

Dipper was fucked.

Bill smirked, watching Dipper fumble an excuse in amusement. He certainly did not expect such a situation to happen, but he supposed it was inevitable… Given their chemistry. "Wow, you seem to have  _ really  _ liked it. I didn't know you were into something like that,” he hummed, not mockingly, as Dipper tried to move away from Bill. Almost amusingly enough, Dipper remained half lying against the pillows with him despite trying to put more distance between them.

Bill could hear how fast Dipper's heart beat whenever he was close to him, in general but especially right now, looking at Bill and biting nervously his lips. Dipper clearly wanted to run for the hills, but Bill recognized that he also longed for contact. There was no way he would remain here or look so touch starved if he didn’t. 

He therefore decided to take a risk and go to unexplored territory-- on a thin ice called “intimacy.”

"Pinetree," he said in a soft gentle voice, placing his hand on Dipper's knee. "It’s uncomfortable, isn't it? Would… Would you like me to help you?”

Dipper froze on the spot, looking into Bill’s golden eyes. The sense of being seen in such a vulnerable way was overwhelming and made him want to squirm. 

He knew very well that this crossed any line of friendship or relationship they had ever had between them. Hell, just two weeks ago he'd wanted to kill him for what he did! Attack him like an animal! But now, he didn't know what to think of Bill. He still had thoughts of hating him in his head, but they were pushed by a sense of confusion, the belief that they were friends, and a desire to be something more. 

This was not the moment when he should think of such a thing! Dipper had to think rationally and act like that. Emotions were fleeting, but logic was not.

Dipper took in a deep breath and said, "Yes."

Wait, what?! Dipper didn't want to say that! He should have said no! Or at least come up with an excuse. What the hell was wrong with him? There shouldn't be a way for him to want that, right? No matter how loved and melty Bill made him, no matter how much his touch lit a fire inside him, he shouldn’t want it. Bill may have a nice ass, lovely lips, and pretty eyes, but-- 

No! God, Dipper was hopeless. He’d been hopeless for weeks.

Bill was as surprised by the answer as Dipper himself. He had honestly expected Dipper to beat around the bush and reject him, but he agreed so clearly. 

_ Oh, that was hot. _ Dipper knew exactly what he wanted.

Bill gulped and moved a little closer to Dipper. "Well, may I kiss you?" he whispered, feeling him blush a little too. Bill suddenly felt like a teenager again. He did it, his Pinetree really gave him permission! If his heart were alive, it would surely begin to pound out loud with joy. But he knew he had to go slow at everything.

Dipper nodded nervously, apparently feeling the butterflies in his stomach. Dipper knew he shouldn't feel that way, but he dreamed too often of Bill's lips to refuse at this point.

Bill hesitated for a moment, then finally leaned over and put his lips on Dipper's.

With the touch of their mouths, instant tingles flooded their bodies. They both waited so long for this, remembering their first kiss and yearning for the next. The combination of Bill's ice-cold lips with Dipper's hot ones created an absolutely addictive sensation that made both crave to taste each other more and more. 

Bill was gentle and didn't try to get into Dipper’s mouth nor use his tongue. Maybe some other time-- but for now, he wasn’t going to ask anything else of his Pinetree when Dipper had already trusted him so much. Instead, he gave Dipper sweet, soft kisses as he stroked his hair with one hand and traveled lower with the other. 

Dipper moaned contentedly, feeling joy emerge from his body. To be loved on like this was something he never realized he craved so badly until now. His mind was so up in the clouds that he barely noticed Bill undoing his pants.

He  _ definitely _ noticed Bill’s icy hand on his cock though. Naturally, Dipper winced and broke away, eyes snapping open. "Bill! Hold on! Don't-- Ah!” A panic set in even though he wanted Bill’s hands on him.

Bill paused and let Dipper go. He wasn’t going to continue forward if Dipper was afraid or unsure. "Sssh, my dear Pinetree, it’s alright,” he murmured in a soothing coo, “I won't do anything you don’t want me to. My only intentions are to help you with this. Are you okay?”

Dipper gulped. The fire in his gut and cheeks contrasted with the nervous ice in his veins. Bill had stopped, he showed he would do what he was asked to, it was okay. He’d kept his promise about not hurting Dipper or taking more than needed, he’d waited for several weeks until he was ready, and… He clearly showed the same feelings in return. It was okay.

“Th--Thank you. I, um. Okay…” God, they were really doing this. Bill was going to  _ touch him _ and see parts of him no one has seen before. Dipper didn’t know whether he was humiliated, guilty, or thrilled.

Bill smiled, a genuine one that made fearsome fangs look adorable, and he purred, “There’s my brave human.”  _ Tell me if you need to stop _ was already known. He leaned down between Dipper’s legs.

Dipper vowed that sooner or later those Bill's sweet words would cause him to have a heart attack. They were so caring but also seductive and sexy that just hearing them pushed Dipper on the line between cumming versus holding back.

Bill's two pretty pink lips wrapped around the head of his cock and Dipper almost choked on a moan in pleasure. 

He had never allowed anyone to touch him like that before,  _ anyone. _ He recalled that night with Caleb and how uncomfortable it was, hearing the warning signals in his head. But this was different. Dipper's body reacted positively to the contact with the vampire, no feeling of discomfort or signals that what they were doing was wrong. Only in his head did Dipper still hear an almost-silent voice, warning him that Bill was a vampire-- the blood sucking monster. However, the boy was so paralyzed by the feeling of happiness and passion at that moment that he could barely think straight.

Bill pulled him deeper into his mouth so he could feel Dipper at the end of his throat and came back up in a single bob. His tongue swirled around the tip and caressed it, taking the utmost care with him. 

Dipper’s thighs shook around Bill’s head and his breath came out in high, panting moans. He was shocked that he could even  _ make _ these sounds in the first place, yet here Bill was, pulling them out of his throat.

Those gorgeous noises sent all the blood in Bill’s system south and he felt a similar issue in his own pants. His mind grew hazy over the bobs as if Dipper were intoxicating.

“You sound so beautiful, my dear.” Bill slurped the head and ran his tongue along a vein on Dipper’s shaft. “The most gorgeous sounds I’ve ever heard, all for me... Be louder, Pinetree.”

_ Oh god. _ Dipper could barely think. All he could do was obey.

Bill bobbed faster, taking Dipper into his throat and sliding his tongue against the underside like it were routine work. Like he’d had practice. With his free hand, Bill fondled Dipper's balls in tandem. Most of the time his lips folded over his teeth, but occasionally there were moments when his large sharp fangs grazed the sensitive pink skin of his cock, forcing Dipper to moan aloud. It showed how dangerous Bill was, but he also knew well he wouldn't hurt him. 

Oh, whatever he said-- whatever Bill whispered to Dipper was just sweet caring words! Dipper wanted to drown in that pleasure, feeling emotions he had never experienced and would never want to experience with anyone but the Count. 

Dipper was rendered helpless, writhing and moaning, but it was the best type of helpless. He babbled words that gradually lost coherence with every swallow, slurp, and suck of his cock.

  


Dipper’s body began to tremble and his breath shortened in quick, gasping pants. A pressure built in his groin. He was about to cum.

"B-Bill! Ah, Bill! S--Stop, I’m gonna cum!” Dipper begged. Bill did the exact opposite.

With Dipper's fingers in his hair, ruining his perfect hairstyle, Bill sucked even harder, enjoying his Pinetree-flavored lollipop. He wanted to give Dipper complete pleasure, to please him  _ so much _ that he could only see stars. He licked the tip of Dipper’s dick and sensitive slit, teasing Dipper to get another of those sweet moans. 

Bill took all of Dipper in one last time. A hot, bitter fluid rushed into his mouth and down his throat.

His Pinetree finally came.

Dipper could barely catch his breath. He was exhausted, hot, satisfied, and above all confused. His cock twitched from the strong orgasm and a few drops of white cum ran down his length toward the sheets.

He just couldn't believe what had just happened. Bill had really just given him a blowjob.

Dipper looked down on his crotch where Bill gulped all of the cum he had in his mouth.  _ (Fuck, that’s hot.) _

Bill’s eyes locked with his in a smug expression. “Good boy.”  _ Oh god, this was downright sinful. _

Bill cleaned his lips with the handkerchief in his jacket pocket and smiled. “Now I'm really stuffed to the brim, mm?” He snickered at his joke and leaned forward, their faces barely inches away. “Thank you for the meal. I hope you enjoyed it as well.” Before Dipper could react, he gave him one last kiss on the lips.

It was a sweet gesture, but with Dipper being lightheaded and just after an orgasm, he just thought  _ “What the actual fuck--” _

Bill tasted like cum. Dipper didn’t have it in him to pitch a fit.

The light headed feeling with the influence of passion disappeared and Dipper's mind was struck by a sense of embarrassment and a desire to dig and hide in a hole somewhere far away. Fucking hell, did he  _ really _ let the vampire suck his blood  _ and _ his dick? Bill made him moan and want to beg for more. His words of praise were a type of magic. If Dipper ever wanted to die, it was now.

Bill, however, acted completely opposite. He smiled contentedly and could not describe the joy he felt at that moment. 

“Well, what would you like to do now, my dear Pinetree? I'm sure you must be tired, so would you like to be up for some reading at the fireplace? I can ask Pyronica to bring us some cookies and cocoa with marshmallows, if you want.”

Dipper hesitated. Bill bounced back so quickly like all of this was run-of-the-mill happenings.

“Or maybe we can have some macaroons and hot chocolate with whipped cream, grated chocolate, marshmallows, and a small cookie in it-- your favourite drink? I can also get us some blankets and fluffy pillows. What do you say?” He shot Dipper a playful wink. 

Bill looked so hopeful. Dipper’s heart ached that he was so conflicted when Bill was trying so endearingly hard to make him comfortable. He couldn’t just leave it off like this. So, Dipper hesitantly nodded. 

Bill’s offers sounded too good to leave and just run away with his embarrassment to his room. Running meant energy and Dipper had none. Running meant future problems to fix, another relationship issue, and he didn’t want to mess up the tentative understanding they just established. __

Plus, it would be that bad. Hot chocolate, marshmallows, cookies, a warm roaring fire, and books. That was the perfect aftercare, a perfect date, a perfect night. Dipper wanted to fall asleep like that.

As Dipper agreed, Bill got up from the bed and pulled the yellow rope next to the fireplace. It sure was connected to one of the servant bells they had in the kitchen. 

After a few seconds, Pyronica knocked on the door. Dipper quickly threw on his pants. 

“Yes, Master?” she asked as she stepped inside. 

“Pyronica, dear, could you be so kind and bring us some macaroons with hot chocolate, the way Pinetree likes it? Also bring some cookies and water.”

“Of course, Master Cipher. I'll be right back.” Pyronica bowed and left as quick as she came.

Once this was done, Bill got back to the bed and covered Dipper with a nice big fluffy blanket. It was so soft that being wrapped up in it helped Dipper to completely get rid of the embarrassment and little bit of shame he felt. He just felt… safe. Safe here in this blanket, safe here in Bill’s arms, safe in his love and care.

“Feeling comfy in there?” Bill smiled as he gently stroked Dipper's hair. Dipper almost purred like some sort of a cat just to make sure Bill wouldn't stop. 

This reaction made Bill chuckle a little bit, but he kept stroking his hair. Watching his tired Dipper laying on the bed made Bill’s dead heart melt. He only wanted to make Dipper the happiest, most content as he could be.

A lightbulb went off in his head.

Bill picked the book from his bedside table and opened it at the first page. “Pinetree, would you like me to read you?” he asked in his soft voice. 

Dipper, who was already half asleep because of how tired he was, just mumbled, “Mhmmm.” 

That made Bill chuckle again. Dipper was just so adorable. If he could suspend this moment forever and place it somewhere safe somehow, he would.

He sat next to Dipper and with his hand stroking the brunette's hair, he started to read: “Chapter 1: Lost In The Woods. Long time ago, there was a small village in which a boy lived…”

Dipper listened to Bill's gentle voice and slowly, but surely, fell into a peaceful sleep. Today wasn't as bad as he expected… Not at all. Not in the slightest. He woke up that morning expecting a horror movie, but got a chapter out of a romance novel instead. 

He totally forgot about putting his necklace on him again.

It didn’t really matter though, did it? Dipper was safe.

Bill was safe.


End file.
